


Crave

by shadowstrangle



Category: Naruto
Genre: Drug Abuse, Drug Withdrawal, Drugs, Friendship, Gaara learning to make friends with team Guy and his siblings mostly, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Other, and realizing he’s a human being, dad baki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27570259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowstrangle/pseuds/shadowstrangle
Summary: “Father? Why do I take medicine, and Kankuro and Temari don’t?”“Kankuro and Temari don’t have demons inside of them. Those pills keep Shukaku at bay.”“Why do they make me feel so funny? My heart feels… fast.”“There is no medicine you can take that will get rid of me,”Shukaku snarled.[based off the headcanon that the Sand gave Gaara stimulants to constantly keep him awake, his declining mental state, and how hard Baki fought to fix him.] Gaara & siblings-centric with some Team Guy content. The siblings go on a joint mission with Team Guy. Lee is a very good friend. Gaara learns to meet the rest of his team along the way.
Relationships: Baki & Suna no Sankyoudai | Sand Siblings, Gaara & Rock Lee
Comments: 85
Kudos: 174





	1. Feed

**Author's Note:**

> Hi so this is based off the heartbreaking headcanon I've seen floating around about how the Sand drugged Gaara to keep him awake. It's also kind of a mix of how Kishi nearly wrote Gaara to be a little freak on steroids and then changed the idea (Google it, pretty cool).  
> A couple of A/N:  
> 1\. Most of the italics are memories and this is kind of a collection of moments over the years except when it switches to present day  
> 2\. The "drugs" in question are caffeine (green pills) but also chakra stimulants (blue pills), and the withdrawal symptoms are much harsher than "normal" stimulants.  
> 3\. Here, especially with the damage done to his chakra network, Gaara's sand is slower and doesn't protect him as well when he's in such a state of duress. 
> 
> TW for drugs, child abuse, and mental illness

For as long as he could remember, every morning Gaara had taken a pill. 

It had started when he was small, when his uncle would place a small green capsule by his breakfast and encourage him to take it once he’d finished. They never really had a taste, and Gaara was a child who did as he was told because he feared what would happen if he didn’t. 

_ “Yashamaru, I have nightmares… I couldn’t sleep last night. Or- or the night before, either. Sometimes even when I’m tired, I can’t…” _

_ “Take your medicine, Gaara-sama. It should help.” _

The first time he asked his father about them, he was eight, and he would have preferred to ask Yashamaru, but he  _ wasn’t there anymore.  _ It was his father now who placed food in front of him, slid him a pill every morning with a glass of water. They didn’t talk very much- after all, Gaara rarely ate meals with his siblings anymore, not after a childish remark from Kankuro had sent sand streaking across the kitchen and around his brother’s neck. Better, Gaara wanted to be better, and perhaps doing everything his father required of him was the answer. 

_ “Father? Why do I take medicine, and Kankuro and Temari don’t?”  _

_ “Kankuro and Temari don’t have demons inside of them. Those pills keep Shukaku at bay.” _

_ “Why do they make me feel so funny? My heart feels… fast.” _

_ Fast  _ was a word Gaara got used to, when he was nine years old and his heart would thrum out of his little chest at the dinner table, when the underside of his eye would twitch without him even thinking about it. It was always evenings when Gaara’s eyelids would start to droop, and his father would offer him another tiny dark green pill. After he went to bed, Gaara’s hands would shake until morning while he curled them under his covers, begging his body for sleep that never came. 

_ “There is no medicine you can take that will get rid of me,”  _ Shukaku snarled. Gaara’s head pounded, and pounded, and  _ pounded.  _ Every now and then when he screamed in his bedroom alone, he wondered,  _ is it that nobody can hear me? Or is it just that nobody cares? _

When Gaara got older, when his legs got longer and his arms got stronger and he thought he’d start growing tall like Kankuro (he never did,) one green pill in the morning turned to two- except the second was blue. At 11, Gaara was so weary that he didn’t ask any more questions. These curbed the demon, didn’t they? The monster that still clawed at the inside of his mind every time he closed his eyes, the one who whispered for him to  _ wake up, wake up, I’ll kill you,  _ the spirit that made him scrape at his skin but simultaneously wouldn’t let him bleed. 

Conversations that happened outside of the closed door to his bedroom at night were something he didn’t pay any mind to. His name frequently came up, but Gaara was often shaking in his sheets, clutching his head and listening to his heart pound in his chest, sweaty hands grasping at red hair that he wanted to pull right out. 

_ “Kazekage-sama. He’s a child, you know. Are you sure the additives are necessary? I thought you were just giving him the green caffeine pills--” _

_ “His body can handle it. We can’t risk him falling asleep, Baki.” _

_ “Can we risk his instability with him staying awake this long?” _

_ “If it gets to be too much we’ve discussed giving him a sedative a few times a month.” _

At 11 and a half, Gaara decided he liked blue pills better than green pills. The green ones rarely made a difference. Days when he only took the green one were less entertaining than the blue one. Curiously, Baki never allowed him the blue one. 

_ “Do you take those for yourself and think I won’t notice?” _

_ “Of course not. I just don’t think you need a double dose this morning.” _

_ “What do you know? Idiot. Give them to me--” _

_ “--that’s enough, Gaara.” _

When Gaara was 12, training for the Chunin exams had begun. Afternoons that he’d usually spend cooped up in his room had turned into exhaustive training sessions with Kankuro, Temari, and most importantly  _ Baki,  _ who Gaara began to despise more and more. 

Baki asked him ridiculous things.  _ Are you sleeping? How does your heart feel? Why are your hands shaking like that? Are you nervous? _

_ “Do not pretend like you care,”  _ Gaara had snarled, while his eyes stared ahead blankly, clouded with another migraine headache that racked his brain.

On one particular afternoon, Gaara nearly destroyed the Kazekage manor. Kankuro and Temari cowered in horror, screaming for Baki to  _ do something, anything  _ while sand thundered through the courtyard, because Gaara’s lack of sleep made him  _ see things  _ and all he wanted to do was  _ make them go away.  _

Gaara collapsed onto the ground out of sheer exhaustion that day, with the sand crashing down around him and his skinny body still twitching. He wished he would die, truly, because certainly anything could be better than living in a constant state of haze like this. Why did it seem like the hours after he took his medicine made him feel sicker? Gaara didn’t remember, but he was screaming for Baki to  _ please make it stop  _ all while he wished for his vision to go dark. 

It was after they returned from Konoha’s Chunin exams, when Rasa was declared dead and Baki realized he had three children left behind that he had to _do something._ There had been a particular moment where Gaara had spoken with him atop the roof a few nights ago, while his thin shoulders trembled and ached for another dose of stimulants. _“I want to be normal,”_ Gaara said. “ _Sometimes when I close my eyes, all I see is blood. Sometimes I see other shapes when I’m awake. How do I make that stop?”_

Conversations with the elders would boom in the halls of the manor while Kankuro and Temari pressed teenage ears to the doors to try and listen.

“You remember the fourth Kazekage’s decree! The child cannot sleep. It’s imperative for the safety of the village.”

“This child,” Baki said through gritted teeth,  _ “ _ cannot continue to stay awake for the rest of his life. His mental state is deteriorating. His immune system is already so poor- you can’t possibly think performance enhancers and caffeine help this. He wants to get better.”

“There is no possible way that the Sand’s jinchuuriki will be anything but a weapon. If he’d like to start acting like a real shinobi instead of a spoiled brat, he’ll prove himself on a mission and maybe we can consider it--”

When Baki opened the door that afternoon, Temari and Kankuro tumbled away from it, gawking up at him. “You can’t take Gaara off his pills. He’ll freak. And- and he needs them, because they help Jinchuuriki, right?” Kankuro stammered. 

“No,” Baki said coldly, “they don’t. They never did.”

Temari began, “But father said--”

“Those pills are stimulants. They’ve been keeping Gaara awake in case he falls asleep. They are not, by any means, keeping the Tailed Beast in check. Your father experimented on your brother for twelve years,” Baki growled, “and I will not let it happen any more.”

Even when Gaara was little, Baki had never missed how he followed whoever would give him his medicine, with wide, black-rimmed eyes patiently waiting for another dose, eyes that darkened when they were told  _ no _ . The pills had always been strictly controlled on Rasa’s watch, and Gaara wasn’t allowed to handle them himself. Now when he was older, thirteen and still as small as he ever was, he did the same thing, lurking behind Baki in the mornings before their training and creeping over to him on the manor rooftop when everyone else was fast asleep.

“Why do you think you take these, Gaara?” Baki asked him one evening, when he could sense Gaara’s presence in the corner of his eye. 

“Because I always have,” was Gaara’s answer. 

“Do you believe they help you?”

Gaara paused. “They keep Shukaku quiet.”

“Because you’re awake.”

“Yes.”

“The blue ones you take are chakra stimulants. Those are what’s keeping you awake, mostly. I don’t want you taking them anymore- I don’t want you taking  _ anything.  _ The council’s suppression methods aren’t good for you.”

“I don’t want to fall asleep.” Even with Gaara’s muddled knowledge of what had been put into his body every since he was a child, he wasn’t stupid. He knew they were imperative to his survival- recognized the itch in his fingers, the pull in his chest, the cold sweat that would pool at the palms of his hands and the soles of his feet. His medicine always made everything go away. “I can’t. You know this.”

“You have to start sleeping, Gaara. Even if it’s for a little bit, guarded--”

Gaara looked at him, his eyes lifeless, and held out his hand. “No.”

In that moment, when Baki made eye contact with him, he stared right into icy green, his hand tightening around the pill bottle in his pocket. “I won’t let you. This stops today. Your chakra networks, Gaara. They’ve already withstood damage. I won’t have anyone forcing you to take these anymore.”

“Is this some kind of joke?” Gaara responded dryly. “Don’t be stupid.”

“It’s for your own good,” Baki said, pursing his lips. “If you ever want to become something other than what you were at the exams, if you ever want to be the man you thought Uzumaki Naruto was, you have to let me help you.”

“I don’t need help,” Gaara said, and suddenly, his voice sounded hoarser than usual. He was afraid. “I need to stay awake.”

Shukaku could always smell fear in the air, and he would whisper to Gaara how silly everyone who challenged him was. While Gaara’s fingers trembled in midair, he could feel the anxiety that floated off of Baki’s skin. 

He looked down at Gaara with the authoritative nature and care that he always deserved, arms crossed over his chest tightly. There was no telling what would happen next- things never ended well after someone told Gaara ‘no.’

“Give them to me,” Gaara rasped.

“This is one decision I’m making for you. It starts tonight.”

“Give them to me,” Gaara said again, and the sand started to rise, forming a snake-like grip around Baki’s wrist. He wouldn’t kill Baki- couldn’t. He wasn’t like that anymore. 

_ But that doesn’t mean you can’t hurt him,  _ laughed Shukaku.

“I’ll ask again,” said Gaara, adrenaline pounding in his ears, his knees shaking where he stood because he was already out of energy and relying purely on chakra to keep him upright. All he wanted was to feel normal again. Baki was preventing him from that, yes? The sooner Gaara could take his next pill, the sooner he would feel like he was in control again. 

Gaara’s fist clenched mechanically, without him even registering. The next sound Gaara heard was Baki’s scream and the splintering of bone, as the sand pulsed around his forearm and slithered away so fast it was like it had never been there at all.

Baki fell to his knees, clutching his bloodied wrist, his face contorted in pain as the skin swelled rapidly around his shattered bone, breathing raggedly. “Gaara,” he whispered hoarsely, “you can’t do this every time you don’t get something you want. You have to--”

“Shut up!” Gaara yelled, and the sand rose again, while uncontrollable tears pooled in his eyes, which had been red and dry all day. How could he do this? How could he swear that he wanted to be better and then tear the limbs off of those who reached for him? “You don’t know anything! Shut up!”

From the inner corridors of the house, this match had already attracted attention. The ANBU that previously guarded the Kazekage and his family still remained, and were running to the scene, coming from all angles. They kept their distance, however, with two rushing to Baki’s side. 

“There is no way he can be trusted!” One of them yelled as he began to treat Baki’s fracture. 

At that, the sand began to whirl around Gaara, wind roaring across the rooftop that made everyone brace themselves. But whatever was screaming inside of him wasn’t Gaara- no, Gaara had been losing touch all evening- and could no longer differentiate what was him and what was Shukaku’s puppet. “Trust me,” Gaara begged brokenly, the rasp in his voice cracking, salty tears slipping into his mouth as they poured down his cheeks and left tracks in his sand armor.

“Lower your weapons! Do not engage!” Baki barked at the ANBU, who were already getting in some sort of formation. 

“Trust me, please--” Gaara sobbed, and he was suddenly flown back when arms came from behind him, under his armpits and then around his shoulders to hold him back while Sand chased after whoever his culprit was. A burst of wind chased it away.

“We trust you, Gaara, this isn’t you,” panted Kankuro, his arms locked tightly around Gaara’s while his little brother kicked and screamed and sobbed so much that his chest would ache in the morning. 

Around them, the ANBU gaped in horror at Kankuro, who actually had the nerve to not only go up to Gaara, but to  _ touch him  _ without fearing for his life. 

Gaara possessed chakra by the metaphorical gallon, but his overwhelming lack of physical strength often caught up to him in times like these, when he struggled against Kankuro’s grip only to feel even more helpless in it. 

Temari’s voice was in his ear next. “Baki is trying to help you. You have to listen to him. Those pills never helped you. They hurt you,” she said, and if Gaara could see more than clouded shapes at the moment, he would’ve seen Temari crying, too.

Gaara cut Temari off with an anguished scream that hurt the back of his throat, like a child that had no idea what else to do as he kicked his legs again, moving back and forth in Kankuro’s hold. While he was restrained, so was the sand. He needed movement of his arms, after all. 

Kankuro held fast. Physical strength was where he championed Gaara. He had always been bigger and stronger. Perhaps it was for this reason. 

The sand dove helplessly, pooling around Gaara’s feet and jerking at both of his siblings, but never being precise enough to grab. Gaara could barely hear anything but the bickering of the ANBU and the constant reassurance of Temari and Baki, and the occasional grunt from Kankuro when Gaara’s elbows would jab him in the stomach. 

It was over when the shapes Gaara had been seeing for months finally clouded his vision so much that he stumbled where he stood, falling into the steady weight of Kankuro behind him. Without the chakra stimulants Gaara had promised his body all these years, he didn’t have the strength to stay up.

Kankuro caught him, in a silent promise to always be the one that would. With a glance at Temari, they both knew that they would stay up until Gaara woke up as well to make sure that nothing went wrong while he slept (if one could even call this any form of rest.)

Nearby, with his arm in a sling and blood covering his uniform, Baki’s shoulders sagged with relief. He was doing right, wasn’t he? Because for the first time since Gaara had been five, he hadn’t taken a pill that tore away at his body from the inside. 

They had even farther to go.

It took Baki three weeks to wean Gaara off of the blue pills. It was for three weeks that he forbade Gaara to go on a single mission, because Baki couldn’t risk Gaara’s mental state affecting the potential outcome. 

One week for Gaara to stay curled up in his bed, drenching his sheets with sweat and digging his fingers into his skin to try and feel anything else but the dull ache of his body, blaming Baki for every pinch of pain that he felt. 

Another for Gaara to snarl at anyone who would listen that this wasn’t working, until he would simply burst into desperate tears that Kankuro couldn’t bear to watch- but that Temari stayed for, stroking his hair and offering him the soothing sound of her voice for the evening. 

A week for Baki to watch Gaara while he writhed on the floor of the manor, agonizing over the way he wondered what Baki’s blood tasted like. No matter how hard he wanted to change, he would always revert to the monster that crept behind his skull and festered under his skin.

_ “You’re a disgusting thief, you’re nothing, you can’t control me because I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you if you don’t give them to me!” _

Baki would have no choice but to leave him there surrounded by ANBU that would drench his sand in water each time it rose, while Gaara trembled so violently that his teeth chattered, his hair matted to his forehead in a cold sweat. Instead of contentedly staying up through the night like he used to with his perfect blue pills, Gaara would keel over and vomit, clawing at the bathroom cabinets for something,  _ anything  _ that would make him feel the same way his old medicine did. 

For Gaara’s body, learning to function without a daily dose of caffeine was something it could get used to. But naturally, Gaara’s collapsed and burned chakra networks felt the fatigue after no longer receiving their daily- sometimes twice daily- stimulant boosts. It was only in the beginning of the third week that Gaara had the energy and resolve to start moving past his bed, to skulk down and have dinner with his siblings that he would later throw up, or to get a breath of fresh air from the rooftop. 

His head felt clearer, somehow. As the weeks passed by, Gaara finally learned what it was to be able to hear himself think. Of course, Shukaku hadn’t disappeared, but Gaara sometimes had the clarity to tell him to _ shut the hell up.  _ Even though it pounded early in the morning and late at night, he could no longer feel the buzzing of his skull or the rattle of his eyes during the day. There were a rare few evenings when Baki would guide him through a meditation, something that he urged Gaara to start practicing. He was able to at the very least begin meditating to grasp at any form of rest, especially with his body in its weakened, dependent state. 

In addition, their current political climate didn’t help the work that Baki wanted to do. How was he expected to care of this child- of any child- when the Council wanted to send them on missions? Feared by the surrounding villages and a newfound ally of the Leaf, the sand siblings were a commodity for their home. 

There was barely any time to rest. On the end of the third week, the Sand received a desperate call for help from the Leaf. They needed aid, and they needed it  _ now,  _ something in regards to Might Guy’s team and the requirement for another joint mission. 

The first time Team Guy requested help from the Sand- almost immediately after the ordeal with the exams- Baki had originally said no. Not only were the kids exhausted, but it wasn’t wise. They were allies now, but just barely, because even though Gaara had saved Rock Lee’s life a few weeks ago, he’d tried to kill him prior to that. And everyone pretended like they forgot, but Baki didn’t. Couldn’t. 

The second time Team Guy requested help from the Sand, it was nearly impossible to refuse. The sandstorms where they were were far too difficult to control, and aid from someone like Gaara was imperative for the success of their mission. 

Baki had then declined on sending Gaara until they came to the agreement that Baki would accompany the siblings to the rendezvous point where they would meet Team Guy. Their journey was slow, because without the extra boost of chakra stimulants Gaara was too exhausted to move at night and they had to stop frequently. Now and then he would snap at Baki, frequently citing that their inefficiency was his fault. But the sandstorms continued to rage, and even Gaara’s diminished presence was required for any mission’s remote success in the desert. 

Often, there were small shinobi towns in the middle of the desert, usually for teams to stop and rest or receive medical attention and supplies. Sometimes teams would camp there as well, but it was genuinely considered Sand territory even if it was open to allies, and no other villages typically stayed. 

Given the circumstances of the storms and the availability of shelters in the towns, it came as no surprise that Team Guy had made themselves right at home. However, upon seeing Guy’s enthusiasm for “tourism” and “sightseeing,” Baki thought they might have done it regardless of the sandstorm. 

“You all made it safely!” Guy clapped Baki on the back as a greeting, holding out a thumbs up to the siblings, who merely blinked at him. “We were just eating! You should join us.”


	2. Saying Thank You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for drugs/drug withdrawals, vomiting

The shelter Team Guy had claimed as their own was surprisingly nice. It was a little run down, but had the bare necessities: room to sleep, a table to eat, and somewhere to wash. It was good enough. Provisions were laid out on the small table, where the rest of Team Guy had already started. 

Food still didn’t quite agree with Gaara’s weak stomach as of late, and even if he was hungry, he shook his head at the offer. He would rather be hungry than spilling his guts in the middle of a sandstorm. Naturally, Kankuro couldn’t turn down a meal and Temari was too polite, so that was how they found themselves having a makeshift Thanksgiving with Team Guy. 

Gaara was uncomfortably sandwiched between Baki and Rock Lee, who was so busy chattering on about  _ the wonderful quality of Sunagakure rice _ that he never really noticed how much he was spilling on his lap (and by extension, Gaara’s, since they were sitting so close together.) Gaara didn’t say anything, though, just sat stiffly and patiently accepted the headache that was starting to set in. 

“Are you alright?” Baki whispered after a few minutes, and Gaara nodded stoically, avoiding eye contact. Over his lap, his fingers curled, short nails once again digging into his palm to try and think about something, anything other than how good a nice  _ boost  _ would feel right now. 

Baki was remarkably proud of the team that sat with him- when he looked to his left, Kankuro was talking animatedly with the weapons specialist Tenten, and even Neji who never seemed to talk at all would chime in every now and then. On the other side of the table, Temari laughed at Kankuro’s jokes, and occasionally engaged Lee in conversation (because he wouldn’t stop talking otherwise.)

“--and how have you been, Gaara-san?” Lee asked, blinking expectantly at him. Gaara had been so lost in his own thoughts, he hadn’t even noticed anyone was talking to him until more than one head turned towards him. 

It made logical sense that Lee would engage him in conversation. After all, they had paired up for an extremely difficult battle and Gaara had worked so quickly to save his life that he hadn’t even thought about it. However, that didn’t mean Gaara considered him a friend of any sort. He had simply been taking orders. 

Gaara wondered how he  _ looked.  _ He hadn’t seen his reflection since they left for the mission, and he was certain he looked like the cryptkeeper as he often did, with disgusting dark circles and pale skin, with chapped lips and a dull stare. Sometimes the tips of his ears were dry and peeling with sunburn when the sand shield wouldn’t quite stay on right. In addition, with the events of the past few weeks, he’d lost even more weight, something that didn’t go unnoticed when he barely carried any at all. His cheeks were hollower than usual.

“I have been well,” Gaara said simply, willing everyone to stop looking at him. The underside of his eye twitched. In his lap, his sweaty hands shuffled. 

“That’s great to hear. I think you’ll be happy to know that I’ve been training very much since we last met! Whatever foe we run into will surely meet their match!” Lee chirped, enthusiastically raising his bowl of  _ wonderful Sunagakure rice.  _

“Right,” said Gaara dully, and continued to stare at the table. 

“Have you eaten today? Your journey must have been long. This rice is delectable, and you’ll certainly need your strength--”

“I have a weak stomach,” answered Gaara. Besides, the depressing idea of _ just rice  _ turned him off even more. What he wouldn’t give to enjoy something tasty, to have a meal that didn’t make his stomach turn, and to take a nice long nap after. Gaara had always been envious of Kankuro when he did this. 

“But Gaara-san, you should still give your body its fuel! Especially because we do not know when our next meal will come! We must--”

“Stop telling me what to do,” Gaara said irritably, glowering at the spot he was staring at on the table. His eyes could burn a hole through it at this point. 

Apparently his tone had attracted attention, because Guy and Neji were looking at him disapprovingly. 

“He’s been feeling poorly these past few days,” Baki interrupted, shaking his head. “I apologize for him.”

“If only you did more than apologize,” Gaara snapped in return, which made Baki inhale sharply. 

“Leave the table if you can’t behave, Gaara,” he said simply. 

Small hands slammed down onto the table, rattling bowls as Gaara pushed himself to stand up. “It’s your fault,” he huffed at Baki, “all of it. I should have killed you when I had the chance.”

“Gaara--” Temari and Kankuro stood at the same time, exchanging worried glances and apologetic ones with the rest of the team. 

“That is  _ more _ than enough, Gaara; you won’t be addressing your superiors like that in front of my team,” piped up Guy, sternly standing as well. 

“What’ll you do about it? Have you seen my superior? Do you know he’s been depriving me of my livelihood for weeks? Do you know--”

Now that everyone was standing, Guy was standing protectively in front of his team. 

“His chakra networks are completely shot,” Neji whispered to Tenten, as his Byakugan searched Gaara’s body for some clue of what was going on. “He shouldn’t even be walking right now.”

“Gaara,  _ stop, _ ” Temari shook her head. “You know that’s not true.”

The headache that made its appearance earlier was now beating in the front of Gaara’s skull, reminding him that  _ there was a fix for this,  _ but he couldn’t have it and it was  _ all Baki’s fault.  _ “No one asked you,” he snapped, “shut up.”

“Gaara.” It was Kankuro’s turn now, his tone holding a warning. Why was it that he had to wrangle his brother everywhere they went?

“Hold me back again,” Gaara snarled, “I  _ dare _ you.”

Where he set it down earlier, Gaara’s gourd hissed with the slow outpour of sand while his fist curled at his side. 

Instantly, chairs were shoved to the ground as Baki and Kankuro raced to restrain Gaara, but Guy beat Kankuro, taking Gaara’s left arm while Baki took his right. 

“You will not hurt a single person while you’re here,” Guy said, his voice cutting through the stunned silence of the room, while sand hissed around his feet. “Baki,” he said through gritted teeth, “is there something I should know?”

Baki’s broken wrist suddenly looked incredibly suspicious, and he held tightly to Gaara, who hadn’t moved since being grabbed. “I’ll discuss it with you later, Guy. He’s all talk right now. It’s different. You can trust him. I swear to you.”

“Can we?” Neji interjected, arms crossed. “All his chakra links are destroyed. He’s barely on his feet. Why did you even bring him? He’s clearly unstable.”

Embarrassment flushed to Baki’s face, and he was thankful for the wrap that hid half of his expression. Perhaps he should have fought harder against the council deciding to send Gaara. This could have potentially ended badly. 

“He’s essential to the success of our mission,” grunted Guy, “but also a comrade.” A faint sign of a struggle showed as Gaara’s elbow attempted a jab to Guy’s side, but Guy allowed no such thing. Just like before, anyone’s physical strength could trump Gaara’s when his hands were held back and the sand was too slow. When he was weak like this, the sand didn’t react as it should. 

“I have no interest in any of you. Let go,” Gaara rasped. Again, like a petulant child, “Baki, make him let go.”

Guy first looked to Baki, who nodded brusquely, carefully releasing Gaara’s arms. Wordlessly, Gaara went straight outside, slamming the thin sliding door behind him. He was the only one who could possibly handle being outside in a sandstorm, with the ability to shield himself from the gusts of wind.

As he sat under the tiny roof of the shelter with his knees tucked to his chest and chakra keeping the bursts of sand away, Gaara could hear the bickering of the two superiors inside. 

“I thought his behavior had changed, Baki. I can’t have him around my team if he’s like this,” barked Guy. For someone typically so well-mannered, an outburst like this only meant it was serious. 

“He’s not himself. He’s going through withdrawals,” Baki said finally.

“Withdrawals?” Neji scoffed. “What? Drugs? Is that what you all do in the sand?”

Neji didn’t get another chance to mouth off, because Kankuro swiftly punched him in the gut. “That’s not it, fairy eyes. Shut the hell up.”

“The fourth… had him on a number of chakra stimulants to keep him awake,” Baki explained. “I’m trying to wean him off of them. If it weren’t for the sandstorm, I wouldn’t have let him come at all. All his anger is directed at me. He’ll be of no harm to any of you. He’s frustrated and angry. He’s a difficult child.”

“What entails a ‘withdrawal?’” Lee asked, after a moment of silence between the group. Childlike curiosity illuminated his face, but concern filled his eyes. They flickered over to the door Gaara had just slammed. “Is Gaara-san in pain?”

“Presumably,” Guy sighed, shaking his head. “His body is learning to function without the drugs after being dependent on them for so long.”

Gaara  _ was  _ in pain. With every movement he made his body ached like that of a fever, reminding him that something was wrong, and crying for him to fix it. 

No one spoke after Guy’s explanation. The idea of drugging a child was harrowing, something the Leaf would usually leave to the likes of Orochimaru. 

“That is very unsettling,” Lee said quietly, and then turned to Baki in a bow. “Thank you for helping him. I am sure he will appreciate it when he feels better.”

Baki blinked in surprise, shaking his head. “No, no. This is my job,” he said, and cleared his throat. He would never make either of those three feel like a charity case. They deserved someone looking out for them. 

Baki was the one who needed to bow, then. “I apologize for his behavior. He is trying his best and will carry out the mission with no qualms. Right now he needs to take a break.”

Baki was starting to recognize that besides the current circumstances, Gaara would bristle when there were too many people. He had always been this way, soft-spoken and timid, though he would rarely allow himself to be. It was never fitting for a shinobi to be shy. That was something that got you walked over. But Baki saw it in the way Gaara stuck close to his siblings, or stayed quiet when they were in a group of new people. He never really did like change. Or a crowd. 

Clearing his throat, Baki pointed to the table, and then Kankuro and Temari. “Team Guy shared their dinner with us. It’s only fair that we help them clean up.”

Even if he wanted to gripe and complain, Kankuro didn’t show it, starting to gather plates and bowls alongside Temari. “Can you get something for the leftovers?” He asked Temari, who was already reaching for another container.”

“--wait!” Lee’s voice cut through their conversation as he dashed over to the table. “Actually, I was wondering if I could have that last bowl. It really was delectable. Something sensational! Phenomenal--”

“--take it, weirdo,” Kankuro interrupted, handing him the rice just so he would  _ go away.  _ “It’s just rice.”

“And I will graciously accept!” Lee bowed, although Kankuro wasn’t paying attention by now, instead pushing past him to the small kitchen sink that stood in the next room. 

“What time will we be leaving for the next rendezvous point tomorrow?” Temari asked Baki and Guy as she cleaned off the table. 

Their mission was a simple information gathering one, although Team Guy had encountered quite a few obstacles with other bandits and spies, as well as the obvious sandstorm that they needed Gaara to calm. With the urgency of the information they were carrying and obtaining, they just couldn’t wait for the storm to pass. 

“The earlier, the better. Sunrise,” Guy said, holding out a thumbs up, “so get lots of rest!”

Wearily, Neji silently decided that he couldn’t take another speech, and had already turned to retire to one of the rooms. “I’m going to bed, then.”

“I wanted to do some target practice, but the storm is too bad,” Tenten sighed. “I guess I’ll come too.”

“That’s my team! Getting all the sleep that they can! A shining example of health and wellness,” Guy grinned, his hands on his hips. “Lee! Will you be joining your team in being the pinnacle of rest?”

“I-- yes! Very soon,” Lee nodded quickly.

_ “Excellent!” _

_ “Thank you!” _

“I’m going to kill myself,” Kankuro muttered under his breath, and Temari smacked the back of his neck. 

“Carry yourself better,” she scolded. 

“ _ You  _ carry yourself--”

“Don’t start!” Temari snapped, and the punch Kankuro had landed on Neji earlier reflected right back to him as Temari landed a hit to his stomach. “I’m going to bed. But if you’re going to be annoying, then you can sleep outside in the storm.”

With the wind still knocked out of him Kankuro didn’t answer, just grunting in response and glaring at his sister. However, he followed.

“I’d like to talk to you more about this situation,” Guy said finally, once the kids were out of the room. 

“Of course,” said Baki, as they both sat at the clean table. “I know it’s… unconventional.”

They launched into a conversation that made Guy’s stomach twist when Baki described the recent events in the Sand. 

Outside, Gaara had given up on eavesdropping. Instead, he decided to come to terms with not being a part of any conversation. This happened often. 

He was sitting on some small back steps, made of weak wood that creaked with the slightest movement. A small roof covered them, but was little protection from the sandstorm that continued to howl. However, a sandstorm wasn’t a problem for Gaara, and the air around him was calm thanks to some simple chakra control. 

Gaara knew technically he shouldn’t be wasting his strength on this right now. Baki would probably scold him for it and urge him to get some sleep, especially after he’d skipped dinner, but Gaara desired no such thing. He would be weak tomorrow. So what? He always was. 

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up when he felt footsteps approaching, with a chakra signature so small and confusing he honestly could have mistaken it for a desert animal. 

The sliding door opened and Gaara whirled around suddenly, eyes wide for whoever had chosen to creep up on him. 

“I am sorry for startling you!” It wasn’t a desert animal, and they weren’t creeping. Instead, it was Lee of all people, holding a bowl of rice. 

And Gaara couldn’t figure out for the  _ life  _ of him why Lee was out here in the middle of a storm when everyone else had found an excuse to avoid him. He stared at Lee for lack of anything else, looking at him as if he’d just beamed down from a spaceship. 

Lee was no stranger to this look. He received it often! From many people! “We still had some leftovers. I know you said your stomach was feeling out of sorts, but plain rice is always a safe food,” he said, and took an uninvited seat right next to Gaara, holding out the bowl. “Even just a few bites will make you feel better!”

Staring wide-eyed at the kind hands holding out a bowl of rice, Gaara could suddenly hear Yashamaru’s voice in his head.  _ When somebody does something nice for you, say thank you, Gaara-sama!  _ But Yashamaru was gone, and at Gaara’s hands. In return, Gaara didn’t feel as if he deserved to be the nice young man Yashamaru genuinely believed he was. “I still don’t want it,” Gaara said instead, and then focused his gaze on the rotting wood of the steps underneath him. 

“Well, that’s okay,” Lee chirped. “Perhaps you will soon!”

Silence hung between them when Gaara forewent a reply. But silence was never a deterrent for Lee. In fact, it was something like a challenge. He noticed that Gaara never talked very much to anyone. But that didn’t necessarily mean that he didn’t like being talked  _ to.  _

“I think it is very cool how you can do this,” Lee continued, motioning to how Gaara held the sand  _ just  _ in front of them in the air, so the gusts from the storm wouldn’t hit them. They got to watch the sandstorm in a bubble. “We would have to wait days if you didn’t come to help. We are grateful.”

Gaara didn’t reply again. 

“It must feel gratifying to be able to protect everyone around you like this,” Lee added, and Gaara blinked. No one had ever referred to his sand like that- it was usually destructive, fatal,  _ alive.  _ Gaara’s sand served to protect  _ him and only him.  _

“...it must take a lot of chakra. Are you tired? We could go inside.”

Gaara looked exhausted and rather upset. Lee wondered if he blinked so slowly because his head was aching, or if his hands were constantly rubbing together out of pain or anxiety or both. Every now and then, the corner of Gaara’s mouth or the underside of his eye would spasm. 

“Why are you doing this?” Gaara asked sullenly. He wouldn’t meet Lee’s eyes when he spoke to him still. 

“Doing what?”

“Sitting out here.”

“Well,” Lee paused as if to find a perfect response, “because you are my friend, mostly. But also because I know you are having a difficult time, and I would like to offer my unwavering support!”

Gaara didn’t know how to interpret the suddenly comfortable  _ swoop _ that crossed his heart, something different than the tight pain he was used to feeling. The dull ache of his head trumped that pleasantry quickly. He still couldn’t bring himself to respond.

“And sometimes you need to know your friends are there for you. You do not need to do anything more than just knowing,” Lee beamed, setting the bowl of rice down between them with a clean set of chopsticks. 

The bowl barely made a sound against the soft wood of the steps as Gaara slid it over in front of himself. There was no more conversation between them as he took a few bites of leftover rice because he was starving, and he needed the calories even if eating made him shudder. 

Gaara paid light mind to the way Lee suddenly sat up straight with pride and happiness, and allowed him to eat without making a big deal of it. Lee also didn’t make a fuss when Gaara’s stomach lurched and he leaned over the stairs to gag, and he courteously pretended as if they were just having a casual conversation when the gagging turned to retching and six bites of rice ended up in the sand just as Gaara would have predicted. 

There was no cooing or back-patting, no soothing monologue that Gaara despised, mostly because Lee was the kind of guy who furiously catalogued everything about his friends. And he knew that Gaara-san did not like to be touched, or coddled, or anything in between. 

But Lee noticed how Gaara would carefully hang onto bits of their conversations, or bring up details at a later date. Gaara enjoyed listening even if he didn’t have the energy to respond. 

And so, just as Gaara came back up to wipe his mouth and take some deep breaths, Lee offered him water from his pack. “Have I ever told you the story about this canteen? You would not believe the way that I acquired it!”

After a long drink and another swipe of his hand across his mouth, Gaara grunted in response, shaking his head. “What was it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope everyone is having a nice Saturday :)  
> come say hello to me on [on tumblr !](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/shadowstrangle)


	3. Patience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLOOOO happy end of November to everyone  
> I realized that by mistake this story had chapters 2/2 on it for a while. I originally intended on it being very short but per the response it's received and the serotonin I get writing it, I think I'm gonna make it a few chapters longer :)  
> Also, for the sake of information, I gave Baki basic medical ninjutsu skills :) it will make sense when you read. Perhaps in the sand they are basically trained.

“It fell from the sky!” Lee grinned, his face suddenly lighting up with the joy of the story and the marvel of the moment. 

Gaara’s fingers fiddled with the lid of the canteen as he screwed it closed. They shook whenever he touched just about anything nowadays. “That’s impossible.”

Gaara’s response was more than Lee had been hoping for, and his piqued interest had Lee very, very proud of himself. 

“Well,” Lee said, “it  _ technically  _ did. We were on a mission in the Land of Fire, in a small village near the forest. And someone dropped it out of the window of a shop, and it landed straight on Neji’s head!”

Now would be the appropriate time for a laugh, or a smile, or perhaps any indication that the story was humorous and charming. Instead, Gaara was still focusing on the wonky cap of the canteen. “Did it hit the ground as well?” He asked. 

Lee blinked at the total dodge of the punchline, and shrugged. “I suppose it did after it fell onto poor Neji.”

“The cap is dented. You should throw it away.”

“Ah,” Lee understood his earlier question now. “That is okay!” 

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Gaara asked dully, his fingers screwing and unscrewing, screwing and unscrewing. It bothered him. 

“No,” Lee said honestly. “It still works perfectly fine if you screw it on a certain way. I do not mind. And if it is broken, I can always try to fix it. It is special to me, and reminds me of a good day, so I still would not be able to throw it away. Plus, it is green! Have you ever seen something so color-coordinated?” He rambled, grinning again while he pointed between the canteen and his jumpsuit. 

Gaara would admit that it  _ was _ rare to find a green canteen falling from a store window, but he was too focused on Lee’s voice rattling in his head.  _ It is special to me, so I would not be able to throw it away.  _ His fingers tightened on the cap of the canteen as it finally closed, and he slid it back to Lee. Was that how it felt to be special?

“...anyway, that is a favorite story of mine,” Lee continued after being met with silence. He paused, as if to hesitate, then opened his mouth again. “Do you have memories of a favorite mission?”

Gaara had been on many missions. Too many to count- usually high rank assassinations or infiltrations. Before he had ever been sent out with Kankuro or Temari, he was often sent with Jonin teams as a silent backup. But those missions seemed starkly different from the ones Lee described. There was never any down time or fond memories, no funny stories or strange souvenirs. Gaara would leave the village, kill until he couldn’t count anymore, return, and then spend the next few days washing blood out of his clothes. Was that supposed to be fun? 

“No,” he answered shortly.

“Oh,” Lee responded. “Perhaps we will make some, then!”

Gaara looked at him, then, the first time that he had looked up from anything that was distracting him. The eye contact was fleeting, but he offered Lee a nod. “Perhaps.”

Lee’s smile was characteristically big. He flashed Gaara a thumbs up to go alongside it. “I am sure tomorrow will be a fantastic day with all of us together. Do you…” his voice trailed off hesitantly. He had been planning to ask about sleep, but Gaara-san didn’t sleep, did he? “Will you be coming inside to rest?”

“No,” Gaara said again. There were times Kankuro would joke about that being the only word in his vocabulary. 

It was getting colder outside now as the night fell, but Gaara didn’t feel remotely welcome inside the shelter. He didn’t want to worry about Neji’s eyes seeing through every cell in his body, or notice that Tenten was sleeping with a kunai in her sleeping bag. Worse than that, Kankuro snored. All night. Every night. And loudly. 

“It will be getting colder soon.”

“I live in the desert. I know the weather,” Gaara responded coolly. 

And just like always, he could practically feel the hair on the back of Lee’s neck stand up the same way anyone else’s did when Gaara’s tone shifted. 

Lee nodded slowly. “I did not mean to… insult your intelligence.”

Gaara didn’t offer an apology like he should have, instead stifled a yawn behind his hand. Another missed opportunity. 

“Well,” Lee said bleakly, “good night, Gaara-san. Please do not stay out in the cold all night.”

Gaara just nodded, and if Lee stalled going inside, he didn’t make it obvious. 

With Lee gone and back inside, Gaara let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Around him, sand stuttered and swirled, his chakra control visibly growing weaker from the extended time he’d spent out here. He  _ did  _ need to go inside, or risk being useless tomorrow. 

But where was safe? Where had the familiar privacy of his third floor bedroom at home, where no one could see him shaking under his covers? Where he could talk to himself when he got frustrated and no one would hear him?

To make matters worse, staying awake at night was now harder than ever before. As the minutes passed Gaara’s head would tip forward and his eyes would flutter shut, only for him to snap his head right back up and stare at the sand with swollen, tired eyes. 

Talking to Lee had made him forget about the unfortunate ache of his skull and the heaviness of his limbs. Gaara suddenly craved the soft material of his blanket at home, and the quiet darkness of his bedroom. Instead of a roaring sandstorm outside of a creaky shelter, he wanted to listen to the murmur of Suna nightlife, of council officials rummaging around the manor as they always did. 

Most of all, Gaara was aware that the reason he felt so unwelcome was  _ him.  _ Night was always when the regret would set in, when Gaara would painstakingly over analyze every interaction he had with someone that day. 

How could he blame anyone for not wanting him around, he thought, as he pulled his knees to his chest? 

He sat like this for another few minutes, until he was trembling so much that he couldn’t discern symptoms of stress from the cold. The desert nights were never kind, and Gaara knew that he had to go inside, no matter how much he didn’t want to. 

After an uncomfortable amount of debate, Gaara unfurled and stood. The door was nearly silent as he slid it open and stepped inside. Immediately, he felt the relief of no longer controlling the storm, and walking felt much easier. 

Team Guy’s room was one he would avoid. Gaara knew there was absolutely no place for him there, even if he might have been able to stomach sharing a space with Lee (and even then he would have been largely uncomfortable still.)

Naturally, Gaara made a beeline for his siblings and Baki’s room. There was a sleeping bag already out for him, but he wouldn’t be using it. How could anyone fathom him going to sleep here? Shukaku would eat them alive. 

On the floor, Kankuro was sprawled out on top of his sleeping bag, snoring so loud Gaara wondered if he would choke. Temari was only a few feet away, fast asleep with her blanket above her head in an effort to drown Kankuro out. 

At first glance Gaara wondered if Baki was asleep at all, as he was sitting up against the wall, but with further investigation (and a heightened sense of night vision) Gaara noticed that his eyes were closed. Baki’s arms were crossed over his chest, his legs straight out. The hand that was wrapped in a cast laid a bit wonky over his opposite arm, free of its sling this week. His head tipped to the side just slightly while his face gleamed with old strokes of face-paint he hadn’t taken off. Next to him, his head wrap laid on the floor. Gaara could see both sides of his face. 

For a moment, Gaara just stood there in the middle of the room. The quiet (save for Kankuro) was nice, and the stillness was even better. There was no sand buzzing or eyes on the back of his neck. Truly, he would have craved nothing more than to wrap himself up in the warmth of his sleeping bag and rest up for the mission like everyone else. But day in and day out, Gaara continued to learn that he  _ wasn’t like everybody else.  _

Upon observation of everyone else, Gaara realized he was still wearing shoes. Would he be the slightest bit more normal if he took them off?

The only sound in the room was Gaara quietly setting his shoes by the edge of the wall with his gourd next to them, as if to claim his own space. While his sleeping bag was in the center, Gaara was still a few feet away from Baki. 

Baki, who hadn’t laid a hand on him after Gaara had threatened to kill him. Baki, who never raised his voice the way his father did, whose hand never tried to beat the rush of the sand when it came to Gaara. 

The netting of Gaara’s shirt made a soft  _ pat  _ as his back hit the wall, sliding to sit down in the same manner Baki was. There was maybe a foot between them, and once sat, Gaara stretched his legs out next to Baki’s. 

Baki’s legs were a lot longer than his. The tips of Gaara’s toes reached to about the point of Baki’s calves. Compared to Baki’s, Gaara’s feet looked like those of a small child and not the gangly teenager he was supposed to be. Everything about him was smaller, Gaara noticed. 

Gaara’s arms crossed comfortably over his chest, toothpicks next to Baki that Kankuro always threatened to snap. He could sit here, couldn’t he? The sun would be rising soon, and all he had to do was wait. But the longer he sat, the tighter his skull felt. 

Soon, Kankuro’s snores became infuriating. The sand outside was deafening, Gaara could suddenly feel every grain under his skin. The blanket resting on his sleeping bag across the room reminded him that he was cold, and Gaara’s fingertips were like ice when he gingerly tapped them on Baki’s shoulder. 

Baki woke with a start, his eyes flashing open and his shoulders jolting. His eyes were bleary and wide when they saw Gaara in front of him-  _ next to him _ \- and no sand in sight. 

“My head hurts,” said Gaara quietly. He was never very good at whispering, and instead his voice rasped. 

And truly, what was Baki supposed to do, Gaara asked himself? He wasn’t allowed to take painkillers, and nothing else would help. What was even the use in bothering him?

Before Baki could open his mouth to respond, Gaara said, “Never mind.” What he wanted to say was  _ I’m sorry,  _ but that couldn’t come out yet. And it didn’t. 

Baki grunted, uncrossing his arms and then shifting his position to cross his legs, facing Gaara. His eyelids ached with exhaustion, but he forced them open anyway. “Where does it hurt?” He asked. His voice was low so as to not disturb Kankuro and Temari, but also carried a hint of something else. If it was gentleness, Gaara didn’t know how to recognize it. 

Gaara pointed to the front of his head. His index finger continued to circle to each of his temples. 

“Have you meditated tonight?”

Gaara shook his head.

“Would you like to try?”

Gaara shook his head again.

For a child that needed so badly to be read, Gaara’s ultimate defense always stood too high. Baki’s tired eyes squinted at the watch that lay next to him, grimacing at how late it was already. 

“I’m tired,” said Gaara dully. 

“I know,” Baki answered.  _ Me too.  _ “Sit back.”

“Why?”

“I’m going to try to make your headache go away.” Baki rolled up his sleeves, stifling a yawn. “Is it okay if I touch you?” The sand would come barreling after him otherwise, but Baki was also someone who asked about things like that. Maybe it was because he knew that if he raised his hand without warning, Gaara would flinch. 

Gaara nodded. 

“Be still.” Baki yawned again, this one rather difficult to stifle, and pressed a hand to Gaara’s forehead. It was cold, already damp with sweat. Within a few seconds, Baki’s good hand began to glow green, pooling with chakra. 

Baki wasn’t necessarily a medical ninja, but he was basically trained and knew some rudimentary healing techniques. The one he was trying now was technically for wound relief, but it was worth a shot, wasn’t it?

On Gaara’s skin, Baki’s chakra was calming, flowing past his forehead and being absorbed by all of his cells. The green was cooling, soothing, traveling through the front of Gaara’s skull and blanketing each dull  _ pound  _ of the ache that had been plaguing him all evening. 

Little fists that had been clenched at each of Gaara’s sides momentarily relaxed, reduced to red-tipped spindly fingers. Baki’s eyes flickered down to them. A good sign. 

Their corner of the room glowed green for the next ten minutes. By minute fifteen, Gaara had sagged back against the wall, slumped with exhaustion. The soothing manner of the medical chakra and the peace and quiet of the room was more than enough for him. That, and his crippling exhaustion. 

“Would you like to try to sleep?”

The question was one Gaara had never received before. Not only was sleep factually discouraged for Gaara, all his life he hadn’t been  _ allowed.  _ Rasa had told him plainly-  _ if you fall asleep, people will die.  _ So, he violently shook his head  _ no. _

“Are you sure?” Baki asked. 

Gaara nodded.

“You have to sleep, you know. Your body needs you to take care of it.”

“Don’t let me,” Gaara said wearily, his voice breaking through the silence and the soft buzz of Baki’s chakra. “I can’t.”

“You can,” answered Baki, “I’m here.”

It was a loaded promise; a risky one. But if Gaara only burdened himself with taking care of everyone else, who would take care of Gaara?

Gaara’s shoulders trembled with chills, and he didn’t respond. He didn’t know how. A ‘thank you’ would have sufficed, but the shock of being cared for overwhelmed anything else. 

“I’m cold,” he said instead, eyes trained on Baki’s pant leg. He couldn’t bring them to his face. 

Times like this reminded Baki that above anything else, Gaara was a child. Slivers of humanity that peeked out when no one was watching reminded Baki why he did what he did, because Gaara was loved, and because Baki was certain no one else would. He laughed lightly, barely, and let the chakra from his hand dissipate momentarily. To Kankuro or Temari, he probably would’ve said to go find their sleeping bag. But it looked like Gaara had already chosen his place for the night, and so he stood, quietly retrieving Gaara’s blanket from the middle of the room and bringing it back over. 

He was hoping Gaara would allow himself some rest- even just a few minutes would be boundless progress. But if he wanted to sit up, Baki didn’t mind that either. He could at least be warm while he did so. 

Baki draped the blanket over Gaara’s front, a tired sigh leaving him as he sat back down next to him after. “Better?”

“Better,” Gaara mumbled, pulling the blanket up to his chest. It was long, and swallowed him up. As an afterthought, he pulled his knees up too. It would be easier to stay awake if he sat up. 

“How’s your head?”

“Fine.”

The medical ninjutsu had helped, even if it would only last a little while. Or maybe it was the simple distraction of talking to Baki and not being alone in his own head. 

With another shudder, Gaara gathered the blanket closer to his shoulders again, listening as Baki settled against the wall beside him, resuming the same pose he had earlier. 

They sat like this for the better part of the hour, as the storm continued to surge outside and the sun grew closer to rising. Baki could have gone right back to sleep, but he wouldn’t in favor of waiting to see if Gaara would. 

Another fifteen minutes passed, and Baki was about ready to give up until suddenly, he felt a weight  _ thump _ onto the side of his arm. 

Gaara’s head was tipped against his shoulder, his body having fallen against Baki’s. At first, Baki was worried he’d passed out cold. But there was a kind of relaxation in his face, a gentle rise and fall in his chest that indicated just the opposite. 

Now, Baki knew he had to stay up to wake Gaara up soon and avoid a Shukaku possession, but the pride swelling in his chest overtook any sort of tiredness. 

A sleeping child shouldn’t be so harrowing, Baki thought, as he sat awake and watched Gaara snooze on his bicep. Baki was careful not to move him, too nervous and heartwarmed to move him. Baki didn’t have any children of his own, had always been too busy with work to marry. But these three? These three were something different entirely. 

He had Temari, who watched over her two brothers with determination that only Karura could have left for her. The second successor to her mother’s wind style next to Gaara, and slowly becoming the champion of it with the very fan Karura had left behind. 

Then Kankuro, who was smart beyond his years, calling shots from the middle and carrying an art on his back that Sasori had poisoned years ago. The potential in him was staggering. He was already preparing for the Jonin exams, and Baki knew he would pass with flying colors. 

And then Gaara, who Baki was surprised to even see become a teenager. The same small child who had been robbed of everything he deserved starting to fight to regain it. More than anything, Baki wanted him to succeed, to prove everyone wrong. He wanted to see the sick, frail, skinny child asleep on his arm grow tall and strong. He wanted a future for him- for all three of them- one that wasn’t painted with blood. 

When another half hour passed, Baki gently shook Gaara awake. Outside, the sun was peeking over the horizon and beginning to rise.

Sand jumped to Gaara’s half-asleep, paranoid defense, but pooled around them once he realized he hadn’t moved from next to Baki and he wasn’t in any danger. 

“Everything is fine,” Baki reassured quickly. “Everyone is safe.”

Gaara looked around wildly, searching for any signs of possible carnage he could have caused. The room looked just as it had last night. Nothing was out of place except for Kankuro, who had turned onto his stomach and was drooling onto his blanket. 

“Did I… faint again?”

“You slept,” said Baki simply. “I promised you you could, didn’t I?”

Gaara rubbed his eyes, a certain haze filling his vision that he couldn’t quite place. Maybe it was just clear for once. 

“Go wake your brother and sister up,” Baki said, slowly pushing himself up to stand. “I’m going to go talk to Guy. We’ll be leaving within the hour. Be sure to pack your things and eat something. We need you today.”

Gaara nodded, still bewildered as he watched Baki walk out of the room. His hands twisted in the blanket he was holding, feeling for loose threads. He often pulled them out when he was nervous, but the anxiety and dread that usually accompanied him day in and day out had taken a break from tormenting him for once. In place of them, he was filled with something like  _ excitement _ . Perhaps today would hold a good memory like the one Lee had talked about. Certainly, waking up to peace was good enough for Gaara. 

Gaara’s thoughts were interrupted by a sudden lapse of silence. No doubt, it indicated Kankuro had woken up. Gaara watched as his brother smacked his lips and sat up, his hair sticking up as if he’d been shocked by electricity. 

His eyes met with Gaara’s across the room. “Shoulda known you were already awake,” Kankuro yawned, unceremoniously scratching his armpit. “Ready to kick some ass today?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy holidays to dad!baki and dad!baki only  
> I wanted to illustrate Gaara learning that he could ask for help in different ways. Lashing out at Baki only got him upset and isolated, but he discovers here that perhaps trying in a different way and being a little bit more direct can get him much farther.   
> Hope you're all doing well! Thanks for reading!  
> Say hey [on tumblr !](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/shadowstrangle)


	4. Woes of the Middle Child

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The comments I've been receiving on this fic have been so kind, they make my day! Thanks so much for reading :)

Temari, usually the first to wake up, stirred next. 

“Finally. We’re burnin’ daylight, you know,” Kankuro teased.

Even in her sleepy haze, Temari was quick to snap back with, “Maybe if you hadn’t been snoring all night, I could’ve gotten some sleep!” One of the four ponytails in her hair had come loose in the night.

“I wasn’t snoring.  _ You  _ were snoring. And your hair looks stupid.”

“Look in the mirror once in a while!”

“I would, but your ugly face takes up all the space--”

Gaara didn’t need to wake either of his siblings, despite what Baki might have thought. They were apparently perfectly awake already. Their fighting was something like white noise to him most of the time, though oddly enough, he missed it when they were apart. 

Eventually there was a large enough lapse in their bickering that allowed them to properly get their things together before they had to leave. 

“How ya feelin’?” Kankuro asked Gaara, watching his younger brother roll a blanket so carefully it looked perfectly cylindrical. 

“Alright.” There hadn’t been a day yet since quitting his medication that Gaara had felt particularly nice, but he would take the sleep as a victory. There had to be something good lying ahead. 

“Didja eat?” Kankuro asked through a mouthful of his own breakfast, which was nothing but onigiri and not remotely exciting. 

“No.”

“Are you gonna?”

“No.”

“Are you su--”

Gaara shot him a look that boiled with such intensity that Kankuro shut his mouth. “Alright, then. Fine.”

Kankuro was learning alongside Temari just how to navigate interactions with Gaara. How far was too far, and what could he say, and just how many jokes did he have to tell to get Gaara to laugh?

But knowing Kankuro, he still didn’t know where the line was. So, after wrapping the half-eaten onigiri back up, he reared his arm back and sent it flying across the room so it would hit Gaara square in the back. He was, of course, met with sand, and a jolt so awkward from Gaara that Kankuro almost felt bad. 

“Eat it,” said Kankuro, puffing up as if to make himself look bigger and more intimidating. That way, maybe Gaara wouldn’t notice the hesitation in his voice.  _ You’re the big brother.  _ “Or else you’re gonna be pukey later.”

Gaara stiffened, frozen in place as he looked back at Kankuro. He moved only to tip his head down, looking at the wrapped rice ball on the floor in front of him. His skin still prickled with the sensation of being  _ hunted,  _ even from something as harmless as an onigiri hardball.

He paid Kankuro absolutely no mind while he considered his decision. Then, slowly, he picked up the rice ball, unwrapped it, and took a bite.

~~~~~~~

They were all together in the main room of the shelter within the hour. Tension still hung in the air, and Gaara felt it settling around him. Predictably, Neji didn’t stand anywhere near him, and Tenten was close to his side. Lee was in the middle of their little group, content to be a mediator. Temari, Kankuro, and Baki all ended up standing in front of Gaara by accident while Baki explained the mission, and it was Baki who took a step back to let Gaara in front of him. 

“The storm is still going on, which means Gaara will be walking in front,” Baki explained, and Gaara’s head suddenly shot up at the mention of his name. 

He could feel eyes boring through him when he was the center of attention. Though Gaara had been on countless high profile missions, he’d never quite been… the leader of one. Placed in the front. If missions were a race, then Gaara always ran anchor. 

“The sandstorms can get very dangerous, so make sure you stay behind him. He’ll be able to feel where we can and can’t go,” Baki said. “If you stray too far from the group, there’s a chance you’ll get lost.”

Sandstorms were notorious for causing shinobi to lose their way in the desert. Baki had seen it happen all too many times, and he would be making sure that a group of tweens wasn’t next on the list. 

“While Gaara leads, the rest of you should be focused on tracking down our informant. This is a simple mission: once we get to the location, it should be easy. Neji, we’ll need you in the rear to make sure we aren’t being followed. It’s important that you all stay alert. There tend to be bandits and ruffians in this area.”

“Then we will fight fearlessly! No one can pry our precious C-rank information from our hands!” Lee said enthusiastically, and Kankuro resisted the urge to bonk his head against Temari’s fan. 

“Right!” Guy echoed. 

“Whenever you’re ready, Gaara,” said Baki. They couldn’t step foot out the door unless Gaara calmed the sand first. 

Gaara didn’t even motion for anybody to follow, just walked straight out the door while everyone clambered to follow. 

What Gaara did with the sand as they walked wasn’t exactly miraculous to him. He simply kept it above their heads, giving them a calm bubble to walk in. He also retained his sense of direction in the desert, something that was unattainable for a lot of people. 

His concentration was nearly broken by the childish gasp next to him. “Gaara-san! Forgive me, but this- this is such an application of chakra control!” Who else would it be but Lee, jogging to catch up to Gaara’s right side. 

Gaara didn’t answer, his sparse eyebrows tightly knit with concentration. This sort of chakra control that spanned more than just him was much more difficult, and on a shot network, it didn’t get any easier. 

“Don’t bug him, man,” Kankuro called from a few feet behind him. “This stuff takes a lot of chakra.”

Lee had faced enemies that were twice his size, monsters and enemy-nin that were creepier than anything he’d ever seen and beaten them with ease. However, nothing intimidated him more than Gaara’s brother. Just Kankuro’s voice sent prickles of anxiety up his neck. That, and the fact that even though Lee was starting to get tall, Kankuro was taller. And bigger. And wider. And sometimes Lee wondered if Kankuro would ever give him one of those harrowing gut punches. Would Lee counter it? Would he be quick enough? Would Kankuro ever sneak up on him the way Lee had seen him do to every opponent he fought, skulking around and blending in with the background--

“Of course! My apologies,” Lee practically squeaked. 

If Gaara wasn’t so focused, he’d probably be looking at Lee rather strangely. To Gaara, Kankuro was one of the least intimidating people in the world. He wasn’t an up and coming Jonin of the sand- he was the guy that Gaara had seen lick his own armpit “just to see if he could do it.” So what was he apologizing to Kankuro for?

“You bother me sometimes,” Gaara offered to Lee, “but you aren’t bothering me now.” It was probably the closest thing to a compliment Lee would ever get from him on this mission, and it was evident that he realized this by the way he brightened instantly. 

From Kankuro’s other side, Baki’s lips twitched up in a barely-there smile. 

“So you don’t mind if I talk to you?” Lee chirped.

Gaara just shrugged. He was distracted by a particularly strong gust of sand, and he grimaced, stopping as he raised his hand to try and control it. It took a moment- it moved dangerously close to them, so close that Neji nearly yelled, but Gaara pushed it away and started to walk again. 

The desert temperatures were relatively cool still, because of how early it was (though within a half hour or so the sun would fully rise and they would bake,) but Gaara’s hair was already matted to his forehead with sweat. 

While his typical headache was much fainter than usual- perhaps a result of Baki’s medical jutsu the previous evening- his body still ached. Carrying the gourd never helped, and every once in a while Gaara would roll his shoulders back uncomfortably. He never used to have any problems carrying it until recently. 

Maybe he was just tired. But he’d slept, right? Wasn’t sleep supposed to fix things like this? Feeling weak? Feeling tired? Feeling sick? Gaara was struggling to understand why that success had seemed so huge if it hadn’t had any effect.

But that was few and far between, because with the next step Gaara took, he felt that their footsteps weren’t the only ones on this stretch of sand. “At four o’clock,” he rasped, and everyone’s attention immediately piqued. 

“How many?” Kankuro asked from the rear.

“Three,” Neji piped up. “They’re not Sand.”

“They won’t be near us for about twenty more minutes, I don’t think,” Gaara said, “if they even make it at all. They’re farther than I originally thought.” His sensory abilities weren’t exactly top notch at the moment. 

“We still have to be wary of enemies,” Neji huffed.

“They don’t stand a chance in a storm like this if they’re that far away,” Gaara attempted to explain. It seemed that nobody knew a single thing about the desert. 

“Then why did you say anything at all?”

For someone who wanted so badly for Neji Hyuuga to accept him, Gaara whirled around and snarled, “Shut your mouth. You have a lot to say to me for someone who needs me to survive.”

“Gaara,” Baki warned, “this is not the time, and he is your comrade.”

“Then he should act like it, shouldn’t he?” Gaara retorted, and then turned all the way around so he could face Neji, one hand still held in the air to shelter them from the storm. His fingers were curled. Shoulders heaving with exertion, he continued to glare with those dead ice eyes of his. “No wonder Naruto tore you to shreds in the exams. You’re weak. All you do is run your mouth. You know what we do with shinobi like you in the S--”

“Gaara,  _ turn around,”  _ Baki said tersely. “We’re on a mission.”

“Neji did not mean it!” Interjected Lee, frantically looking between Gaara and Neji. “He is just… opinionated. He takes some getting used to. When Neji and I first became friends--”

“--now you’re bothering me,” Gaara said coolly to Lee, and he shifted his gourd on his shoulders again as he turned around. 

Now as Gaara walked, his brow was creased with irritation, jaw set tensely. His teeth were clenched, and if Temari could see him, she’d probably scold him to quit it and say “you’re going to wear them down if you keep grinding like that.” It was a habit he had ever since he was a child. 

No matter how annoyed he was, Baki was right. He couldn’t compromise the mission because of his feelings. That was a lesson that had been drilled into their psyche from the time they could walk. 

On his right, Lee was quiet. Every now and then, he would peek over at Gaara like he had something else to say, but then he kept it to himself. He was busy studying the scowl on Gaara’s face, and the way his fingers shook as he held tons of sand over their heads. Even now, when he was supposed to be just a normal genin… why did it always look like he had so much to carry?

Behind him, Lee could hear Tenten and Neji whispering to each other. Temari and Kankuro seemed trained to ignore it, both of them stoic and focused. Lee always admired the demeanor shinobi from the Sand held. It was much more formal than that of the Leaf. 

“You are doing a good job,” Lee said then, turning to look directly at Gaara. 

Gaara didn’t answer, but Lee noticed the way the dark rims around his eyes widened, how his fingers stuttered around the sand he was figuratively holding. Compliments mattered, Lee thought. He didn’t care whether Gaara said thank you or not. He cared that Gaara heard him. 

As they walked, sometimes the sand would loom closer to them and Lee would hear Gaara grunt as he pushed it away. All of them were sweating from the desert sun, but Gaara’s shirt was soaked through and the shine of it was bright on his face.

Normally, sweat wouldn’t be visible on Gaara’s skin at all, but Gaara didn’t have the chakra control to keep his sand shield up nowadays unless he was in imminent danger. While he used to wear it at all times, he could only maintain it when it was absolutely necessary right now. 

Gaara also used to be able to last hours in the desert, but now he found himself dragging his feet. His shoulders ached from the weight on his back, and he felt exhausted. All normal for someone running on a half hour of sleep, but Gaara didn’t understand that. 

“Gaara?” Kankuro called tentatively, when he noticed Gaara’s hand starting to shake, or the shuffle of his feet. “Doin’ good up there?”

Gaara blinked and nodded, regardless of whether Kankuro could see him or not. The dunes of sand were beginning to multiply in his eyes, wavering in clouds like he was seeing double. 

“Hey,” Gaara mumbled, as if Kankuro could hear him, as if to let him know, but it was barely audible. That was all he got out as his vision spotted to black, and the slightest lean forward sent him stumbling into the sand, the gourd on his back being of no help. 

Gaara’s own sand barely flew to catch him. With the sand’s weakened state, Lee was faster, dashing to catch Gaara as the sand started to whip around them, free from Gaara’s control.

“Gaara!” yelled Temari, her voice carried away by the wind. “Kankuro, you have to--”

All they could do was brace their arms in front of them now, but it wasn’t any use. The sand still whipped over them, getting into their noses and mouths while the howling wind made everyone’s eyes water. 

Kankuro knew exactly what Temari was referring to. It was part of the reason they worked so well as a team. After forming a series of seals he bent down and put his hands down to the ground. “I don’t know if this is gonna fuckin’ work in the sand--”

“Just do it!” Temari shouted.

“Earth Style: Standing Mud Walls!” 

The ground rumbled, and Kankuro grimaced, holding his stance while dark walls came from underground. They weren’t a shelter, exactly, but three of them surrounded their group well enough to defer most of the sand that was flying at them. 

Bewildered, Tenten looked over at him. “I didn’t know you had Earth Release!”

Kankuro wiped some sweat off his forehead. “Yeah, well, you didn’t think to ask, did you? Gaara this, Temari that. What’s Kankuro got to offer? Well, I’ll tell you--”

“Hush,” Baki said, and Kankuro didn’t look very amused as Baki went right past him to tend to Gaara. 

“Did you see that? That was top-notch teamwork. They knew each other’s moves without even speaking,” Guy praised, hands on his hips while he stood near Neji and Tenten. Neji only scoffed, though it was clear he found it impressive.

“Stand him up so we can take that off,” Baki sighed to Lee, who was still holding Gaara up, He motioned to the gourd, which he slipped off of Gaara’s back with a grunt. It wasn’t light. 

Without it, Gaara seemed a lot smaller. 

Baki didn’t seem worried in the slightest as he took Gaara from Lee, propping him up against the wall in a sitting position. It was rather morbid- Gaara’s head just lolled to the side. 

“Is he going to wake up?” Lee panicked. 

“Of course,” Baki said. As one of the leaders of this mission, he knew it was important to keep calm (especially in front of loose cannons like Lee.) “He probably exerted his chakra. He’s not like he used to be. His body is healing.”

“When will he wake up? What about the mission?” Neji cut in, arms crossed. 

This time, Tenten jabbed him with her elbow. 

Kankuro turned to glare at him, too. “You wanna go out in that, hotshot?” He asked, motioning to the outside. “We gotta wait until he wakes up or until the sandstorm cuts out. You guys really have never been in the damn desert.”

“Stop swearing,” Baki muttered, “you sound like a drunkard. You’re fifteen.”

Temari muffled a snort behind her hand. 

“Shut up,” Kankuro said back to her as he leaned over and yanked at one of her pigtails. 

Within two breaths, Temari had Kankuro in a headlock, squeezing tighter with every second. “Do it again, you stupid pig!”

“Is this what having siblings is like?” Lee marveled, with his hands on his hips. “Neji, do you and Hinata-san--”

“No,” Neji said flatly. 

“You want a sibling? Take him,” Temari said, and she shoved Kankuro out of her headlock, sending him stumbling into the sand. He was grumbling something under his breath, but wouldn’t say it louder. He had scars from fights with Temari. 

“Enough, you two,” Baki scolded, “do I have to make you sit apart from each other? We’re still on a mission.”

Temari crossed her arms and huffed, looking away from Kankuro. She couldn’t see, but he was doing the same thing. 

“There’s not really very much we can do,” Baki said after another few minutes of looking over Gaara. He had checked all of his vitals. “He’s just exhausted. We’ll have to wait until he wakes up.”

Kankuro opened his mouth to argue about how he had  _ just finished saying that,  _ but nobody ever listened to him, and he shut it. 

“Then we will make camp!” Guy declared, holding out a thumbs up, “And secure the perimeter to ensure Gaara has a safe place to rest!”

“This is gonna blow,” Kankuro groaned.

“At least it’s not cold,” Tenten hummed, and he looked over at her in horror. 

“Are you kidding? You ever been out here when the sun goes down?”

“Oh, man,” she groaned too, and looked over at Gaara. “Gaara-san,” she called out tentatively, “have a nice sleep, but please wake up before we freeze!”

It was the first olive branch she’d extended towards him in these past few days, and under the tension of the situation, all of them were able to crack a smile. It grew into a laugh. 

Baki looked over at Gaara. If only he knew that after a lifetime of keeping people apart, he was finally starting to bring them together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I'm sorry Neji is so fucking mean KHSKDJFHDF but he really was a lil shit in part 1 so it's not too far off  
> 2\. Kankuro actually does have earth release but I can't remember ever seeing him using it! I totally made up that jutsu lmfao so don't call me on it  
> 3\. say hey to me [on tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/shadowstrangle)


	5. Helping Hands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hhhhh sorry long time no update but it rlly is yall out here with the sweet comments that motivate me and i thank you for them all i really love them and you are all so kind and i appreciate you very much

Neji was the first one to say anything about Shukaku. Despite being scolded already today, his arrogant questions and quips had no end. “If he’s asleep, won’t he be possessed by that… thing?” He asked, pointing to Gaara. 

It had only been about ten minutes since Gaara had collapsed, and Baki was busy laying him down and putting something under his head. 

“Man, do you ever shut up? You think we’d all be chilling here if that was happening?” Kankuro huffed from where he was sitting against one of the earth walls, already having slipped off the puppet he was carrying. He felt he deserved the rest. “It’s got somethin’ to do with chakra, right, Baki?”

“You’re correct,” Baki said. “Shukaku can’t do anything if Gaara’s chakra is depleted. Besides, he’s not quite asleep. He’s unconscious.”

“I don’t get the difference, but that sounded smart, huh?” Kankuro whispered in Temari’s ear when she sat down next to him. 

“Do  _ you  _ ever shut up?” Temari scoffed, and stood back up because she regretted her decision in sitting next to him. 

It was times like this that Kankuro sort of missed his creepy little brother, because he was confident that had Gaara been awake, he would’ve eventually slinked over to sit by Kankuro (maybe four feet away.) Still, Kankuro would’ve had some company. 

“You’re mean and bitter,” he called after Temari, though received no response.

Over where Gaara was laying, Baki stood talking to Guy. “I don’t know how long it’ll be,” Baki admitted. “I can try using medical ninjutsu, but it’ll still be slow.”

Guy clapped a supportive hand on Baki’s shoulder. “Baki-senpai,” he said, “we’re a team. Besides, we can’t move through the storm anyway.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“And this will only be another opportunity for one of my favorite activities,” Guy continued. 

“What’s that?” 

“ _ Team bonding. _ ” Guy flashed one of his signature smiles, and motioned to the kids. “This is a sign. A chance to get them to work together.”

It was evident that they were two separate units. Kankuro and Temari sat on one side of the enclosure near Gaara (with adequate distance between them because they were bickering) while Neji, Tenten, and even Lee had congregated on the other side. 

“Those two are no easy task,” Baki nodded in Temari and Kankuro’s direction. 

“That’s because they aren’t friends,” Guy responded simply. “They don’t know each other. Only the politics that separate them.”

“You’re free to do whatever you like. In the meantime,” Baki glanced over to the kids, “I need Neji.” For whatever medical ninjutsu Baki would try, he would certainly need to be able to see the areas of Gaara’s chakra network that required the most attention. Neji’s Byakugan was essential to that. 

“Neji!” Guy called out, and waved him over. “Baki needs your assistance.”

“I need you to look at his chakra network,” Baki said, bending down next to Gaara, “and tell me what you see. Including the areas where it looks the weakest. I want to see if I can try and repair them. Or help them heal faster.”

“I don’t think medical ninjutsu works that way,” said Neji, and Baki narrowed his eyes. 

“He asked for your help, Neji, not your opinion,” Guy interjected. “He’s your captain just as much as I am on this mission.”

Neji swallowed back a scowl and instead made a hand sign for his Byakugan to appear, though his gaze was nothing short of a glare as he scanned it over Gaara.

His expression changed to something of horror the more he looked, though. While a normal chakra network would resemble some sort of lattice formation, Gaara’s looked like a mess of wires, tangled and snapped, pulled to their last breath and then twisted some more. 

“How was he still moving today?” Neji murmured, pale eyes wide. 

This wasn’t the network of a jinchuuriki. Neji had looked at Naruto countless times and if anything, Naruto had  _ more  _ chakra than the average shinobi. He never looked like this shredded mess that lay in front of Neji now. 

“He knew he was needed for the mission,” Baki answered. “He’s loyal to his post.”

Neji cleared his throat, shaking his head. There was no room for him to feel pity for this kid. Not after all the cold and unblinking stares he’d received, or the reptilian remarks Gaara sent flying his way. And certainly not after all the  _ murders _ that the Sand pretended didn’t happen.

But looking at him like this, Neji felt something different in his chest. When he was unconscious, Gaara looked even more sickly than before. For someone who lived in the desert, his skin was so sallow and pale it could have been paper. Moreover, Neji had never seen a shinobi so skinny, with bones that jutted out of his elbows and wrists, shoulders so pointed that they made a bump in his shirt. 

Gaara’s lips were almost blue, and the one thing Neji couldn’t take his gaze off of was his eyes. Even closed, they were dark and bruised, puffy with sleep deprivation and sunken back so far Neji could’ve mistook him for a skeleton. 

_ What did they do to him? _

Gaara couldn’t have chosen any part of this, Neji realized. He had been used by his village, by the people close to him that he was sworn as a shinobi to protect. And Neji knew the realities of being a pawn all too well. 

“Well?” Baki interrupted. “What do you see?”

“I don’t even know how medical ninjutsu would begin to repair this. He seems like he needs surgery. His network looks like…”

Then it hit him. Gaara’s chakra network looked like  _ Lee’s.  _

Neji stole a glance at his teammate, who was animatedly describing something to Tenten. “You should take him to Tsunade,” Neji said. “After the mission...”

His pause was the result of seeing a flicker of blue under Gaara’s chest in his network, a feeble burst of power that seemed like it was trying to spread, but couldn’t. A thin line of it slowly began to fill from Gaara’s fingertips, trailing up his arms at a speed so slow Neji watched it right then and there. 

“I think he’s waking u--”

A rocket flash of blue went through Gaara’s network as he jolted awake, though just as quickly as it arrived it was gone. Neji watched the flicker of chakra like a lamp on its last leg, unable to tear his eyes away. It would fill Gaara’s body and then extinguish itself, over and over again.

He watched as Gaara woke up wide-eyed, trying to push himself up to sit, and instead fell feebly back and curled onto his side, grasping at the sand with desperate white knuckles while he cried out in pain. 

Gaara’s vision was blurred no matter how much he tried to blink it away. He could only really see frames of Baki above him, grains of sand in front of him, Kankuro and Temari suddenly coming towards him. And Neji, who stared at him like he was some sort of monster, but that was never anything new, was it?

Gaara would have normally marveled at waking up without a headache for once, but the pain that racked his body now made him want to beg for a migraine. Was there ever a day when he woke up and deserved not to hurt? Would he ever be good enough for that?

Someone was talking to him. It might have been Baki, it might have been Kankuro. He couldn’t hear them with the way his brain was pulsing in his head. How was it that every time Gaara received the blessing of waking up, he wished that he didn’t?

And how was Gaara ever supposed to be the normal kid he wanted to be so badly when every time he moved he felt like he was dying? The only time Team Guy had ever seen him this mission, he’d been angry, sick, and miserable. Did they know about the cool book he read just last week? The one Neji might have liked? Did Lee know that Baki promised to train taijutsu with him when Gaara was better, and that maybe one day they could be sparring partners? Or that Gaara’s sand was a perfect training barrier for Tenten?

None of them knew anything about him except for the fact that he was  _ weak  _ and  _ sick  _ and  _ creepy.  _

Kankuro protested, “Use medical ninjutsu or somethin’, Baki, he can’t even speak. The hell’s wrong with him?!”

“It’s chakra,” Neji said to him before Baki could even open his mouth. “His chakra network keeps shutting itself on and off. I don’t know how he’s even awake.”

“That should just make him tired, though, right? Not like this,” Kankuro asked, frantically glancing between Gaara and Neji. 

“Do you know what it feels like to have your network disabled?” Neji asked. “All over your body? My clan specializes in that. And this is something different entirely. It looks worse.”

Suddenly, Neji became instrumental in helping someone that he’d wanted to leave behind thirty minutes earlier for the sake of an information gathering mission. “One of you has to share chakra with him for a while. To stabilize it.”

“Is there a way to do that?” Temari asked hurriedly. She knelt next to Baki.

“It’s possible if you have a technique for it, but…” Baki shook his head. “I’m not sure if we have anyone here that could administer it. It also requires chakra compatibility.”

“You have Kankuro and I here. Wouldn’t we be compatible?” 

“Perhaps. It doesn’t matter, though. We don’t have anyone here who can--”

“My clan does this,” Neji interjected. For the first time the entire mission, he was nervous. “I’ve seen my uncle do it numerous times. I’ve never tried it myself, but perhaps I could try the technique…”

“You would do that?” Temari asked, relief already apparent in her wide eyes. 

“I don’t know if it will work,” Neji admitted. 

Guy stood a few feet away from them with crossed arms so as to not be in the way, but the pride in his eyes was evident. Tenten and Lee were stood next to him, watching intently. 

“I wish I could do that,” Lee murmured. 

“You help Gaara in a much different way,” Guy shook his head, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Chakra has nothing to do with it.”

A scream from Gaara pulled everyone from their side conversations. He was writhing on the ground, clothes covered in sand, chest heaving as he panted from the pain coursing through his body. 

“Okay, so-- do the fuckin-- chakra thing!” Kankuro said to Neji.

“Someone will need to have him sit up. Or roll him over. It needs to be through the back or through the stomach,” Neji said. “Can you touch him?” 

What Neji really wanted to ask was,  _ will he hurt you? _

“I don’t think he has enough chakra to even lift the sand,” Baki said, and tentatively put a hand on Gaara’s shoulder. The sand, bound by force to protect him, rose feebly but did nothing more than that. To make it as quick and painless as possible, Baki gently took him by the shoulders to put him on his back. 

“Which one of you has the same chakra nature he does? The most dominant one?” Neji asked, looking between Kankuro and Temari. 

Helplessly, Kankuro stood back and shook his head. “That’s Temari. I don’t have wind style.”

“Alright, then,” said Neji, and knelt down on one side of Gaara, with Temari on the other. “Take your hands off him when I say so. We can’t do too much or else you’ll be exhausted, too. Just enough to stabilize him.” 

Temari nodded quickly, as she placed her hands down on Gaara’s chest and Neji’s came down over hers. It was a chakra transfer technique and Neji was only going off of what he’d seen Hiashi do, but it was worth a try. 

Lightly, faintly, blue began to glow beneath their hands. If Neji hadn’t been so concentrated, he would be able to hear the audible gasp that resounded between their group. 

Underneath them, Gaara had stopped writhing so much, with his hands gripping less at the sand. “It’s working,” Neji breathed, because he could see lines of blue trickling in through Gaara’s body.

Not only had Neji managed to harness an extremely difficult and life-saving technique, he was using it on someone that for the past few days he’d wanted to punch in the face. It was funny how comrades worked, and it hadn’t quite hit him yet. 

Gaara could barely see what was going on, but could feel that the pain coursing through his body was starting to dull. A wave of calm was washing through his veins, smoothing over the sharp pinpricks of pain and stopping the sudden shocks that he kept going through.

He didn’t notice the way his body was trembling even though he wasn’t in pain, or how heavily he was breathing. More importantly, he didn’t remember falling asleep and suddenly they were stopped and surrounded by walls. Was he being healed? Had something happened to him?

Gaara was always terrified when his body worked against him like this. For the past few weeks, that was all it had been doing. 

Next to Neji and Temari, Baki let out a loud breath of relief that he wasn’t even aware he’d been holding. His shoulders sagged with it. Whenever something like this happened, he felt guilty. Was he doing the right thing? Could he perhaps offer Gaara a better life with the stimulants his body had grown to  _ require _ despite their side effects? Wouldn’t the side effects be better than this? And shouldn’t these symptoms subside by now? That meant there was permanent damage. 

“Were we attacked?” Gaara asked wearily, blinking at Temari and Neji above him. 

“No,” Temari shook her head, a relieved smile on her face. “No, you just… you passed out. We had to take a break. Everything is fine. Are you… alright? Are you still in pain?”

“No,” Gaara answered back, a small sense of wonder in his own voice. How was that even possible? And why was it Neji’s doing? “Why didn’t you leave me behind?”

“What?” Temari furrowed her brow. 

“I would be… a liability,” Gaara said tiredly, closing his eyes for a moment. “You’re sacrificing the mission.”

“You’re crazy,” Kankuro said, coming to sit down next to Gaara. “We wouldn’t have done that. Besides. This sandstorm’s still goin’ on.” He motioned to the mud style walls around them. The occasional burst of sand still spilled over them, but overall he had done a good job obstructing them from its path. 

“It will be done soon,” Gaara said, reaching a shaky hand up as if to feel the air. Then, he looked at Neji. “What did you do?”

“It was a simple chakra transmission,” Neji answered curtly. He allowed his Byakugan to retract. It wasn’t simple. 

Gaara let his hand drop from the sandy air, and Neji felt his green eyes boring into him. “This is the first time in weeks I have felt no pain,” he exhaled, and Neji understood by his gaze.  _ Thank you. _

“I can’t believe you could do something like that. That’s high level ninjutsu,” Temari said to Neji, and she took it upon herself to look at him and say, “thank you for helping my brother.”

Neji briefly nodded. With nothing more to say, he stood and turned around to walk back to his team. 

The pat on the back he subsequently received from Guy was more than enough for him to know he had done the right thing. “ _ That  _ is what a comrade does,” Guy said.

“Will we be leaving when the storm subsides? Gaara said it would,” Neji asked. He didn’t want to linger on what had just happened. 

“I have to discuss with Baki, but I assume we will probably go to a halfway point instead of the rendezvous to give Gaara time to rest.There are small towns around. I’m not sure how easy it will be for him to get there, but we’ll help him. It’s too dangerous for us to spend the night out here. We can’t even make a fire,” Guy said. 

Neji nodded, and opened his mouth like he wanted to say something. He hesitated more than once, but on about the third time he finally looked up at Guy. “It looks like they tortured him,” he said quietly. “He barely has a chakra network anymore. It almost looks like Lee’s.”

Guy’s jaw set where it was. “It’s despicable,” he agreed, “but I believe Baki will put it right. He’s a good man. A good teacher. I don’t know very much about Gaara,” he admitted, “but I know he could use some friends.” 

Guy’s hand found Neji’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “You did very well.”

With that he went to go talk logistics with Baki. It was concluded that they would wait for the storm to pass just as Guy had recommended. It was barely noon, so they would be able to get to a small town soon enough to stop for supplies and shelter. In the meantime, Gaara would be able to rest so he would have the energy to make the walk. 

But in their small shared space, when Guy went to check on the kids again, the two cliques were gone. Of course, for kids to be stuck together for this long, it was only natural for them to finally come together. It was precisely what Guy had been hoping for when he mentioned some sort of team building exercise. 

What remained was them sitting around Gaara, talking and laughing. How was it that this battered child had something magnetic about him? That he pulled people to him even though he so viciously pushed them away seconds after? Vaguely, it reminded Guy of someone very close to him. 

Gaara was not very involved in the conversation they were all having. It was an argument over hot or cold soba noodles, and Gaara didn’t have any particularly strong feelings for soba. Instead, he just wanted to revel in being painless.

Kankuro had helped him sit up against the wall while Temari encouraged him to drink some water, and even though the heat was stifling, Gaara felt incredibly pleasant even if he was still tired. He  _ would  _ make the walk to their next stopping point. He wouldn’t be a liability again. 

“...Gaara-san, what about you? Hot or cold?” Lee asked.

“I don’t care.”

“He likes weird stuff,” Kankuro rolled his eyes. 

“Ah? Weird things like what?” Tenten grinned. 

“He won’t eat anything sweet,” Temari laughed. “And he loves salted tongue.”

“And gizzards,” Kankuro made a face. 

“So you do care, see?” Tenten smiled. 

“And he eats spicy stuff- man, it makes me cry, he just eats it like it’s nothin’,” Kankuro rambled. 

Lee brightened impossibly. “Guy-sensei makes the spiciest curry in the village! No, in the Land of Fire! No--”

“Guy-sensei’s curry tastes like motor oil,” Neji interrupted. 

“Neji! You are simply wrong--”

“I’m sorry.  _ Spicy  _ motor oil.”

The laughter around Gaara that echoed then was something he wanted to replay over and over again. He was so used to people screaming in his presence. Running. Crying. Trembling. And yet here, he was a part of something. Even if he wasn’t quite participating in the conversation, they made him feel heard regardless. 

“What is having friends like?” Gaara asked, and the laughter stalled. He was curious as to why they all looked so confused. He asked this analytically, the same as a student in class.

“Well,” Tenten spoke first, “I imagine it’s like this, isn’t it?”

“Right!” Lee grinned. “We are friends, aren’t we?”

Like clockwork, both of them elbowed Neji in the side. “What?!” 

“We’re friends.  _ Aren’t we?”  _ Tenten gritted her teeth.

“We’re friends,” Neji grumbled, rubbing his side. Tenten’s jab hurt more than Lee’s. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Neji's chakra-sharing jutsu is something I totally made up. I have no idea whether the Hyuuga clan does anything remotely like that but I thought Neji would be the perfect candidate for something so high-level.   
> 2\. I didn't initially intend on this chapter being so Neji-centric? But I was thinking about how today they're not so different after all and he needed to realize that. He's still an asshole, and it's not perfect, but... he did the right thing :)
> 
> come say hey to me [on tumblr !](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/shadowstrangle)  
>  i love talking to u guys !!!!!!!!!!


	6. Nose Goes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this just in: they elected Gaara for Kazekage by using 'nose goes'

Their unspoken goal was to leave as soon as the sand storm subsided. It was a lucky break for them that it would subside at all. No one had admitted it, but everyone had been thinking it: there was no way Gaara would have the energy to follow them and control the sand at the same time. 

To Gaara’s surprise, all his teammates were still sitting near him even after they’d found out he was alright. He was still critically analyzing the fact that Tenten had called them  _ friends.  _ And Gaara was a part of that equation, even if he only chimed into the conversation about every ten minutes or so. 

But after almost two hours, Gaara could feel the wind slowing down, and raised a hand to the air as if to test it again. “The storm will be finished soon,” he said, interrupting a heated debate between Kankuro and Tenten about scrolls and their packing ability. 

“That means we should get goin’,” Kankuro said. “We’ve gotta go over one thing first, though.”

“Huh?” Tenten asked. 

“Who’s carrying Gaara’s gourd?” Kankuro asked, and then put his fingertip on the tip of his nose. “Nose goes.”

Temari’s eyes widened, with her hand quickly following her brother’s, touching the tip of her nose with her finger.

“I do not understand,” Lee said frantically, looking between all of his teammates.

Neji scoffed, mirroring their movements. “What’s this supposed to mean?”

“I am not quite sure what is going on and would like for someone to explain!” Lee protested.

“Is this sign language? Or Sunan?” Tenten asked, curiously tapping her nose. 

“Ha!” Kankuro’s answer resided in him laughing boisterously and pointing to Lee with his free hand. “Last one! You didn’t do it,” Kankuro said, motioning to how everyone was touching their nose. “You gotta carry the gourd, stupid!”

“Oh, I get it,” Tenten grinned. “It must be a Sand thing, then.”

“You guys don’t do ‘nose goes?’’ Kankuro hummed. 

“I thought you guys were elite?” Neji muttered under his breath. 

“By the rules, Lee carries the gourd,” Temari said, crossing her arms. 

“The rules of what?!” Lee’s eyebrows were furrowed with confusion. “I would have simply carried the gourd if anyone had asked. I do not understand why we must touch our noses--”

“--no one is carrying the gourd. I’m carrying the gourd,” Gaara interjected. He had been watching carefully, though hadn’t spoken. He held up one index finger. “I haven’t touched my nose yet.”

It seemed that the rule of  _ nose goes _ also applied to tween sociopaths. 

“That thing’s gonna knock you over. Don’t be dumb,” Kankuro rolled his eyes. 

“I can carry it. You’re dumb,” Gaara said irritably. 

“I would be happy to carry the gourd! Do not worry, Gaara-san,” Lee shook his head quickly. 

“It’s not yours,” Gaara said flatly, “there’s no reason for you to.”

“It looks heavy,” Tenten mumbled, glancing over to the gourd that was set against the mud walls. 

Before Kankuro could agree with her, he felt a spiny hand on his shoulder. Gaara was using him to try and stand. He felt that he needed to prove he could carry it. 

“Woah, woah, woah,” Kankuro reached a hand out to steady Gaara, because he stood shakily. It was clear that there would be no extremely heavy gourd on his back for this journey, and they would have to find this out the hard way. 

An ache still ran through Gaara when he made any large movements- something like standing or starting to walk- but he gritted his teeth and ignored it. “See?” He asked wearily. “I’ll be fine.”

“You’re most certainly not carrying your sand,” boomed Baki’s voice from behind them. 

“I will carry the sand, Baki-sensei,” insisted Lee. 

“Great. The storm is starting to get a lot thinner, so get your things together. We’ll want to leave soon to make sure that we get a proper shelter before nightfall,” Baki said. 

“Have fun carrying that thing, bowlcut,” said Kankuro once he stood, clapping Lee on the shoulder. 

“I will be using it as a strength exercise!” Lee chirped after him, almost tentatively. He wondered if there would ever be a day when Kankuro didn’t intimidate him. 

The rest of them moved to start gathering their things. Gaara was bending down for the gourd again. 

“Gaara-san, I thought--”

“I’m not carrying it,” Gaara huffed. “You just don’t know how to tie it on. It’ll fall off if you don’t do it right.”

There was a specific way Gaara tied the gourd onto his shoulders and waist, and there was no way Lee would be able to do it himself the first time. However, the next obstacle he ran into was the fact that he couldn’t possibly lift the gourd to put it on Lee without chakra. 

Gaara paused and came up for a moment, turning to look at Baki expectantly. 

“Right,” said Baki seamlessly. Over the years, he had grown quite used to communicating with Gaara like this. It was rare for Gaara to ask for help most of the time, and he didn’t usually look anyone in the eyes while he spoke to them. That was why it had gotten fairly easy for Baki to deduce that whenever Gaara stared at him for an awkward length of time, he probably needed something and was too nervous to ask for it. 

With a grunt, Baki lifted the gourd up and positioned it behind Lee, while Gaara carefully looped the white sash over Lee’s shoulder and around his waist. 

“You can let go,” said Gaara, and Baki did. 

Lee tried to hold in a noise of surprise and disdain as the immense weight of the gourd dug into his shoulders. How did Gaara carry this every day? More importantly, how did he conduct  _ battle  _ with this? 

“Is it too heavy?” Gaara asked. “You don’t have to carry it.”

“No!” Lee squeaked, awkwardly adjusting the strap that sat on his shoulder. “No, it is fine! Do not worry.”

Lee watched as Gaara moved around him, adjusting the tie and making sure the gourd was secure. It was strange seeing Gaara without it- he looked about half his usual size. Before, Lee hadn’t been able to notice the way his shoulderblades jutted out of his shirt, or how his hips were so slim that he wore a belt to keep those awkwardly baggy pants up. Lee found himself wishing that Gaara could be around for a helping of dinner at Guy-sensei’s. It seemed like he needed it. 

“That should be fine,” Gaara said as he tightened a knot, stepping away to check over his handiwork. 

It actually made sense for Lee to carry the gourd above anyone else. He was probably the strongest among his teammates. If anyone could handle the hindrance of something like that on their back, it was him. 

Even stranger, when Lee moved he could feel the hiss and rustle of the sand slithering around inside the gourd. It had a mind of its own. It was never still. Was this what Gaara heard constantly?

“Lookin’ good, eyebrows,” Kankuro called out. “Everyone ready? Can I take the walls down?”

There was a murmured chorus of ‘yes’ and ‘alright’ and ‘go ahead’ before Kankuro pressed his hands back down to the sand. The walls retreated, rumbling back underneath the surface. They faced the desert again. 

While there was still the occasional burst of sand that would fly past them, the skies were clear and the desert looked like a clean canvas, with all of their footprints and tracks blown away. Surely if the Leaf wasn’t with Suna shinobi, they’d be lost or dead by now. 

Baki was in the front this time, assumably for navigation purposes. Not to anyone’s surprise, Guy was right next to him. He was avidly rambling about something. 

“How does he know where he is going?” Lee asked Gaara, who was walking next to him. 

“He has a natural sense of direction in the desert,” Gaara answered, “all Sunan people do.”

“So it is not just you,” Lee marveled. “How interesting!”

Gaara didn’t answer, assuming the conversation to be at a dead end. He felt awkward and on display without his gourd, and his eyes kept flickering over to it as if he was worried something would happen. Nothing did. Instead he would feel his chakra barely flicker every now and then, which sent pain shooting through his veins, but nothing eventful. 

A few feet away, Kankuro nudged Temari, who was walking with him. “Since when are those two all buddy-buddy?” He asked, motioning to Gaara and Lee.

“I don’t think they are. He’s just carrying the sand,” Temari shrugged. “Why do you care? You jealous?”

“I’m not jealous,” Kankuro scoffed. “Just seems he talks to everybody but me, is all.”

“Gaara talks to you plenty.”

“Yeah, right. And you’re pretty.”

Beyond ample chatter and desert winds, the next sound anyone heard was Kankuro’s face smushing against sand as Temari shoved him to the ground. 

“I wish I had siblings,” Lee marveled, like he always did when he watched them interact. Gaara was often confused by this. 

“Why?” Gaara asked openly. He wiped some sweat off his forehead. His sand shield usually cooled him down, but he wasn’t wearing it right now. Oh, dear. He’d be sunburned later.

“It looks fun. Like a team! But all the time. I spend lots of time with Tenten and Neji, but… we do not live together. And we have different families.” Lee paused, and then spoke again with a hesitant laugh. “I do not have very much family at all.”

Gaara would imagine someone like Lee to have seven brothers and sisters waiting for him at home. He was so loud and outspoken- and yet so polite that Gaara would have thought he had a mother constantly chastising him about manners. Apparently not. 

“But Guy-sensei says a lot of the time that you find your family,” Lee continued. His smile grew at that as he looked upon his teammates. “I like to think my parents are very happy I have Neji, and Tenten, and Guy-sensei… and all of my friends. I think they have seen everything. Wherever they are up there, anyway!”

Lee tipped his head back to look up at the sky, pointing playfully. The desert sun was bright, nearly blinding, so he looked back down, but the point was made. 

Gaara tipped his head back too. He wondered how much of him his mother could really see. His father too, even. Did they care enough to see what he was up to? How much had they watched? And how much made them look away?

He had briefly had this sort of conversation with his siblings and Baki once. It was right after their father had been murdered. Temari had attempted to make a remark about both of their parents watching over them, and instead of agreeing, Kankuro stomped on the ground at the mention of their father. 

_ “Nah,” _ Kankuro had said,  _ “Father’s down there. Think he can hear that?” _

Baki had scoffed and chastised Kankuro for his behavior, but Gaara always wondered if Kankuro knew that he agreed. 

“I think he’s right,” Gaara said, when his eyes went to Baki, who was at the front. “Your sensei, I mean.”

Lee did not miss the direction Gaara looked, only smiled. “He is right about a lot.”

Up at the front, Baki was not just listening to one of Guy’s stories. There was something he’d been waiting to ask Guy for a few hours already, but had wanted to be out of earshot of the kids. It wasn’t anyone’s business. 

“I had a question for you. About Tsunade-sama,” Baki asked. 

“Of course!”

“I know Neji said it offhandedly, but…” Baki’s voice trailed off, “if I brought Gaara, do you think she would take a look at him?”

“Absolutely,” Guy said earnestly. “In fact, I believe that it’s necessary.”

“I’m worried he won’t make the walk,” Baki admitted. “And I would have to take Kankuro and Temari as well. I don’t want them in the village unsupervised right now.”

Guy knew enough to assume that another village’s dynamic was none of his business. He didn’t pry. “There would be no problem in finding accommodations for you all. As for young Gaara, we will make sure he gets there safely. You are our allies, after all.”

Baki chuckled lightly, “It might even be more difficult convincing Gaara.”

“When someone wants to get better, they don’t need convincing,” Guy said confidently. “And that boy of yours wants to be better.”

“I think he does too.”

“I don’t know if anyone has told you yet, but you’re doing the right thing,” Guy said suddenly. “And he’s lucky to have you looking after him. I’ll do anything I can to talk to Lord Fifth. I’m sure she would help him. Lee had similar chakra network damage and she… saved his entire career.”

“Thank you.” Baki paused, and then spoke again. “I want him to have a chance. The Fourth stole that from him.”

“He is not the same child I met at the exams,” Guy said. “He’ll find his way.”

It took about another hour or so for them to actually be able to see the next village in their line of sight. Kankuro and Temari had bickered to the point of not speaking, so Temari had taken to walking with Tenten and Neji while Kankuro sulked near Gaara and Lee. 

Lee was on the quiet side himself for once, because he was dripping sweat and the gourd was absolutely not helping. He wouldn’t allow himself to complain, though.

“Dude, do you wanna… switch?” Kankuro asked. He didn’t really want Lee to say yes, but he felt bad. “You can carry my puppet.”

“We can already see the village! I will be just fine,” puffed Lee, holding up a measly thumbs up. No wonder Gaara used chakra for this godforsaken sand. There was no way someone could carry this and move freely. “I think that perhaps you should carry Gaara.”

Gaara was noticeably weaker than earlier. The walk was draining for him. His endurance was considerably lower than it ever used to be now that his body was so battered on the inside. “Don’t touch me,” he said to Kankuro, “I’m fine.”

“I wasn’t gonna carry you, short stack. I think you’d bite,” Kankruo retorted.

Oddly, a part of Kankuro  _ wanted  _ to. There was a part of his and Gaara’s relationship that he wanted more than anything- just to be the big brother for a few minutes. But it always seemed that Kankuro wouldn’t be the person Gaara turned to for help.

“Good,” Gaara shot back, and he crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t want to be a burden for anyone else on this walk. He would finish it by himself, even if he was starting to get slower. 

There reached a point when he became so out of breath he had to stop, hands on his knees. His chest ached, and the spikes of pain from his chakra network were starting to become a lot more frequent. They were almost there, maybe about twenty minutes. Gaara’s face burned with more than sunburn when the others turned to look at him. What a liability he was. 

“Do we need to stop?” Temari asked, looking between her brother and then Baki and Guy at the front. “I can go tell Baki a--”

“We’re not stopping,” Gaara said through gritted teeth. “I’m alright.” He winced again when he tried to stand back up. It was enough for Neji to turn, wondering if they’d have to perform the same jutsu as earlier. 

“Someone just carry him,” Neji said offhandedly, “it’ll probably get worse if he keeps exerting energy. We can do another chakra transfer later.”

“Me and Eyebrows are on Gaara duty. You guys can go ahead,” Kankuro said, holding out a thumbs up. Perhaps he’d been spending too much time with Team Guy. He slipped his puppet off of his back, holding it out. “Can someone grab this?”

“Add a smile too! Then it is even more convincing--” Lee whispered, but Kankuro punched his arm. 

“Shut up. That’s not what I meant.”

Lee obliged, looking between Gaara and Kankuro. Gaara didn’t want to meet anyone’s eyes.

When they stood next to each other, Gaara and Kankuro were undeniably brothers. They held the same face shape, even the same eyes, though they were built monumentally different. Kankuro was taller, broader, would probably grow another seven inches before he was an adult. Gaara was spindly and had the same daintiness Temari possessed in her eyes. 

“C’mon, let’s get a move on,” urged Kankuro as he moved in front of Gaara. “They’re all gonna get ahead of us.”

Reluctantly, Gaara used the last of his energy to get onto Kankuro’s back. 

Kankuro hoisted him up easily. Gaara was light, probably weighed a tad more than the puppet Kankuro always carried around, and Kankuro had no qualms about the extra weight for the rest of the walk. 

“Y’see? Is that so bad?” Kankuro asked, as he and Lee finally started to catch up with the group.

“Shut up,” Gaara mumbled into the fabric of Kankuro’s hood, slumped over. It wasn’t worth trying to stay upright when he was this exhausted. Besides, it hurt to move. 

“You shut up,” Kankuro laughed. “You’re getting the most killer piggy-back ride ever.”

Gaara truthfully knew that Kankuro was right. He noticed, in his hazy state, the way Kankuro was walking a bit slower so he would be more comfortable. He was even putting up with a conversation with Lee, which Gaara knew was particularly painful for him. 

“I will have to do more shoulder exercises in training. I did not realize how much more progress I need to make. This gourd has been an eye-opening training experience,” Lee rambled. “Is that what you do in training? You carry your puppets all the time as well. It is remarkable.”

Kankuro shrugged. “I always kinda have. I guess I do shoulder stuff.”

“What kind? I must write it down. Is it swimming? I have heard swimming is great for your shoulders…”

“Oh, yeah. Right in the river outside our house,” Kankuro said sarcastically.

“Really?! How convenient! That must be--”

“We live in the fuckin’ desert,” Kankuro groaned, “how do you--”

“Well, I have never been invited to your house! How would I know?”

“It’s the desert, man! It’s the  _ desert!” _

“If there is no water, do you even know how to swim?” Lee asked curiously. 

“Shut up,” Kankuro grumbled.

“Would that be a ‘no?’”

“I told you to shut it.”

“Intiuitively, that would be a ‘no,’” Lee mused. Certainly Kankuro wouldn’t do anything with Gaara on his back. Perhaps this was a chance for more questions! 

Fading in and out of rest, if Gaara had the energy, he might have laughed at this entire exchange. Undeniably, Gaara was thankful for the chance to rest. He was even more thankful that he had people telling him it was alright to slow down, that he wasn’t a machine. He never had been. 

“I can swim, dumbass,” Kankuro huffed. “Gaara can’t, though. Sand freaks out when he gets near water. Right?”

Kankuro tipped his head back slightly to look at Gaara, who seemed to be nearly asleep. “Hmm?” Gaara asked, blinking groggily. He heard his name. 

“Was just saying that we don’t swim all that often. You can rest if you want. Sorry,” Kankuro said. 

“I hate the water,” Gaara mumbled, and let his eyes fall closed again. He would pry them open every few minutes, a mechanical practice so he wouldn’t fall asleep. He was used to it. He wouldn’t risk anything now, not in the middle of the desert with so much sand to be weaponized. 

_ As if you’re strong enough to do anything,  _ snarled a voice behind his eyes, and Gaara’s eyelids snapped open again.  _ You’re getting weak, you know. It’s not really any fun anymore. Whatever happened to all the extra chakra you had? _

Shukaku hadn’t spoken to him in a few days. Instinctively, Gaara’s fingers tightened in the fabric of Kankuro’s shirt, shaking his head. Maybe his voice would go away. 

_ I’m getting bored. You’re not as entertaining when you don’t hurt anybody, you know. I might just go back to sleep.  _

Gaara shook his head once more, which was enough movement to make Kankuro turn his head again. “You good?”

“I’m fine,” Gaara breathed. 

“But yeah,” Kankuro turned back to Lee, “it’s not part of our graduation exam. I think it is if you’re a Jonin, so I gotta work on it.” He laughed sheepishly. “There’s a couple oases nearby. Baki said we could go sometime.”

_ You won’t even talk back to me? _

_ Fine, you stupid brat. You’re lucky you’re so weak, anyway. I’d have killed all these losers by now.  _

Gaara’s fingers were tighter in Kankuro’s shirt now, so much that his hands were nearly fists. People don’t talk as much when they’re ignored, do they? He wondered. 

“An oasis! Those must be beautiful,” Lee marveled. 

“They are,” Gaara cut in, finding the courage to speak. 

_ What could you possibly have to say? _

“I went on a mission once,” Gaara said. “There’s one by the border.”

“Oh, yeah? That’s closer than I thought,” Kankuro said. “Thought you were asleep, kid.”

_ Whatever. I’m going to sleep.  _

“I’m awake,” Gaara said. He comfortably tightened his arms around Kankuro’s neck, resting his head against his elbow. 

Ahead of them, the village grew closer and closer, and Guy whooped loudly. “Would you look at that?! Less than two hours. And it looks like there’s a market! We’ll have to find something good to eat…”

Instead of cringing like he normally would, Kankuro laughed. The Leaf was strange, but they always did bring a sense of positivity that he secretly appreciated. 

“Kankuro,” Gaara mumbled, tapping the side of Kankuro’s shoulder with one of his hands to be sure that he had his attention. 

“What’s up?” Kankuro asked. 

“Thank you.”

Kankuro’s steps nearly faltered as they entered the village, and he tried to keep his expression to a minimum. “What’re you thanking me for?”

“When someone does something nice for you,” Gaara recited sleepily, his chin resting on Kankuro’s shoulder, “you say ‘thank you.’”

“Yeah?” Kankuro laughed lightly. 

“Yes.”

“You’re welcome,” Kankuro answered, because he knew if he didn’t answer properly, Gaara would be confused for the rest of the day. “Get some sleep or somethin’, huh? We’ve still gotta head into the village and get checked in somewhere.”

Gaara hummed out what would have been an ‘okay,’ letting his head rest back down again. 

They were cleared quickly through the small village gates with Baki showing Sand citizenship in the lead, and the next micro-mission was to find somewhere to stay.

“Great teamwork all around from the Joint Guy-Baki Information Retention Squad!” Guy called out, holding out a thumbs up.

“The… what?” Temari asked very, very quietly in Tenten’s ear.

“Don’t ask,” Tenten said woefully. “Just keep walking.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heheh thank you guys for reading my sand sibs passion project i really do adore all of you  
> come talk to me [on tumblr !](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/shadowstrangle) I love hearing from y'all!!


	7. How Fish Should Taste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hello!!!! sorry i havent posted in 68 years!!! here yall go!!!   
> pro tip: wear sunscreen  
> (also this chapter is like... barely beta read so im sorry if there's typos LMFAO)

“They’ve got somethin’ but rice here?! I might just have the motivation to live another day!” Kankuro’s voice rang through the crowded street market they were walking into. This was a smaller village none of them had been to before, rather close to the Sand. Most of the people passing through were shinobi, vendors, or travelers.

“I quite like the rice here!” Lee piped up.

“Wasn’t talkin’ to you.”

“Guy-sensei says if you eat something with a smile on your face, it makes it taste better! So that rice was very good.”

“Yeah, right. You’d actually smile if you ate something good for once. They actually have Sunan food here?! Temari, gimme some more money, I’m a little short…” Kankuro mused, trying to remember just how much he’d brought.

“Buy your own!” Temari retorted.

“It’s for me  _ and  _ Gaara,” Kankuro gestured to Gaara, who was still half asleep on his back. It wasn’t, but he supposed he could share if it meant getting a few bills from Temari. Kankuro had never been good about saving. 

“Fine,” Temari huffed, digging in one of the pouches she had strapped to her, “didn’t you just get paid last week?”

“Baki says to never discuss your finances with others,” Kankuro said matter-of-factly, his lips twitching as he tried to hold back a smile. 

“At least get something decent,” Temari grumbled, holding out a stack of bills. 

“Mm. Put it in my pocket?” Kankuro asked hopefully, since both his hands were busy holding Gaara’s legs. 

“Now you’re asking too much,” Temari said, but she obliged. 

“ _ Shit,  _ Gaara, what’s not gonna make you yack?” Kankuro hummed.

Gaara lifted his head from Kankuro’s shoulder, blinking at all the different stalls on either side of them. He didn’t answer. He was too busy taking in his surroundings. Everything looked different lately, like he was seeing the world with clear eyes for the first time. 

“Don’t get something disgusting,” Temari interjected. “Nothing too greasy or salty.”

“Whaddya say, Gaara? You want somethin’ super greasy and salty?” Kankuro asked. Temari couldn’t punch him if he was holding their frail psychotic brother, could she?

“As long as it’s not red bean, I don’t care,” said Gaara, and Kankuro knew that was the closest he would get to a choice. 

Kankuro, ever the traveler and critic at his fourteen and a half years, took a good amount of time choosing what to eat. Gaara watched while his brother carefully scanned each stand, inquired about prices, and haggled with little old women for various knickknacks that he most certainly didn’t need. 

Temari, bored with their excursion, had gone ahead with Lee and the others. All of them were trailing within walking distance of Guy and Baki in the front. 

Gaara really didn’t care less what they ate. He would tell Kankuro that again and again. But when they passed a stand of freshly roasted and skewered fish, the salty kind that crunched under your teeth, the ones that were rather scarce in Suna unless someone had a pond or oasis property, he perked right up. 

Kankuro felt the sudden shift of movement, stopping where he walked. “You want one?”

It was still foreign for Gaara to be asked whether he approved of something. Whether he  _ wanted _ something. Because most of the time, it was forced onto him like a shirt that was too small, that cut off his movement and rubbed against the front of his neck. The  _ yes _ lingered on the corners of his tongue, bubbling at the front of his lips. And yet, with Kankuro’s awkward sideways glance and attention suddenly on him, Gaara couldn’t find the words to answer. 

“Can I have two, please? And can one of them have extra salt?” Kankuro asked, then turned to Gaara. “You good to walk for a little?”

Gaara nodded. The rest had helped, and he assumed he could push through to get to wherever they were staying tonight. 

It dawned on Gaara then, as his feet touched the ground and he looked between Kankuro and the fish stand, that they had never really done this sort of thing before. His interactions with Kankuro before his father died had mostly been limited to training and family dinners (and Gaara had eventually been barred from those.) On occasion they would talk. Gaara seemed to be learning more about Kankuro on this entire mission than he ever had. 

“Why did you get one with extra salt?” Gaara asked, as they stood and waited for the vendor to give Kankuro his change. Standing next to his brother like this made him realize how much Kankuro had grown (and just how much Gaara hadn’t.)

“That’s yours,” Kankuro hummed, thanking the vendor. He turned, handing one of the fish to Gaara. “Let’s go find Temari. And then when she asks for a bite,” he said, urging Gaara to go ahead and start walking, “tell her no.”

While Gaara walked next to Kankuro, his teeth sank into the crispy skin of a fish that was almost bigger than his head. His lips stung pleasantly with salt, while the familiar flavor of Sunan spices lingered on his tongue. It was getting later in the day, so the sun wasn’t as strong and his skin didn’t burn as much as it had earlier (there was a time and place for Kankuro to make fun of Gaara’s red nose, but it wasn’t here.) And Gaara wondered intently, as he made his strides bigger to keep up with Kankuro’s, was this what Lee meant about a  _ good memory? _

“Is it good?” Kankuro’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, and Gaara looked up at him with a nod.

Kankuro was beaming in a way Gaara didn’t usually see. There was grease on his lips from the fish, a crumb on the side of his mouth that he later swiped away with the back of his hand. “Your stomach feelin’ okay?”

Gaara nodded again. He’d only eaten about a fourth of the fish, but it was progress compared to these past few days. 

Kankuro’s shoulders straightened rather proudly. “And Temari thinks she knows everything.”

Over another bite of fish, Gaara smiled. Maybe the fish did taste better that way.

~~~

In this village, Sand citizenship got them farther than anything else. People in the land of Wind were still wary of those from other states even though this particular town seemed to be a shinobi hotspot. But when Baki flashed his shinobi passport, it got them a much nicer place to stay in compared to the barracks that were offered for travelers and other shinobi. 

By the time they were all checked in, the sun was beginning to set and the wind was picking up as it always did in the evenings. The door of their lodging was littered with pairs of sandals that would undeniably be confused in the morning, with the exception of Gaara’s (the smallest) and Guy’s (the biggest.)

The prospect of a nicer place to stay had inspired Guy to the fullest. He had promised to make them all dinner, to which Neji had muttered under his breath, “It’s a good thing we ate at the market earlier.”

“Is it that bad?” Temari had whispered.

“Think of the stuff you scrape off of a  _ yakiniku _ grill at the end of the night,” Neji whispered back. “That’s what we’ll be having.”

“He’ll hear you!” Tenten whispered frantically, her hands waving for them to  _ hush.  _

Large hands suddenly handed on top of Tenten and Neji’s shoulders. “What are we all whispering about? If you’re bored enough to gossip, you’re bored enough to train,” Guy said. 

There was a crisp unison that rang through the air as Neji, Tenten, and Temari all cringed and exclaimed, “Nothing!”

“Work hard so you can rest well!” Guy said encouragingly, pointing to Lee on the other side of the room. For the longest time, Gaara had been working on untying the sash of his gourd so that Lee could put it down, and it had just hit the ground with a resounding  _ thunk  _ atop the wood floor.

Lee was quick to follow. First he gave Gaara an appreciative bow, but then he took a seat right on the ground. After that, his sitting turned to laying, until he was flat out against the wood. The hard floor would iron out his aching spine and tender shoulders. 

“Will you be staying there?” Gaara asked, looking down at him. Lee was drenched with sweat and out of breath, eyes closed. They opened at Gaara’s question. 

“For a moment,” Lee responded. 

“I see,” Gaara replied, carefully stepping over Lee’s outstretched legs. 

Gaara wasn’t quite sure what to do now. The intelligent answer would have been to sleep, but he was petrified to do that with everyone around. He wanted Kankuro’s confidence, the kind that allowed him to unpack in one of the other rooms as soon as they stepped foot in here. Gaara could already hear him snoring. 

Or maybe Temari’s sudden bond with Tenten, that had them chatting together. Temari told jokes that made Neji laugh. Gaara found that interaction impossible.

The only activity that Gaara considered remotely easy was talking to Lee, because it didn’t require much talking at all. But Gaara also decided that Lee had probably had enough of him today, and needed his rest. 

He decided he would sit outside. It was getting cooler, and a rest would do him good. 

As soon as Gaara turned for the sliding door, Baki called out, “Gaara.”

Gaara turned.

“Where are you going with a face like that?”

“What’s wrong with my face?” Gaara frowned, reaching up to touch one of his cheeks. The prickling heat under his fingertips made him flinch, and he pressed one to the tip of his nose. What was going on?

“That’s a mighty sunburn you’ve got!” Guy whooped, moving past Gaara and Baki to make his way into the kitchen. He stepped over Lee with ease. 

“Sunburn?” Gaara asked, looking to Baki for clarification.

“There was some strong sun out today. You’ve got a nasty sunburn. Didn’t put the sand shield up, huh?” The most damage was done across Gaara’s nose and cheeks, where the skin burned bright red. It would certainly peel in the next few days. Gaara’s ears and the back of his neck also hadn’t been spared. 

Gaara was still touching his face. With each prod of his fingers, the skin burned and pulled. “Is this fatal?” How could Baki be so calm?

“Is it- no, it’s not fatal,” Baki laughed. “It’ll be gone in a day or two.”

Gaara’s hands were over both his face. Each time he touched his skin, he cringed, but he couldn’t stop. The cold sweat on his fingers would cool down wherever he touched, but hurt it all the same. “I don’t understand. What is this?” His voice was growing more panicked, especially when he looked at his forearms (another shade of pink.)

“It’s just a sunburn,” Baki said gently, “the sun burns the outer layer of your skin. That’s all it is.”

“I don’t understand,” Gaara mumbled uncomfortably again, suddenly with his arms crossed over his chest. His skin tugged at itself when he talked. It was dry and hot, and he missed his old face. The kind that didn’t hurt when he moved.

“What don’t you understand?” Baki asked. The agitation in Gaara’s face admittedly made him nervous, so he started to walk outside.  Some space between Gaara and the others was just a precaution during something like this. 

“If I’m supposed to be getting better,” said Gaara, “then why do I just keep getting hurt?”

When Baki looked down at him to respond, he saw a child with eyes so sunken that they nearly distracted from a juvenile sunburn. Instead of chubby cheeks that a twelve year old should have, he saw cheekbones. Sometimes when Gaara asked him questions, he didn’t know how to answer. 

“Your body is learning to take care of itself again,” Baki started, “because before, it always had something else doing the work.”

“Will I be sick forever?” Gaara asked.

“No,” Baki said firmly. “You’re not sick. You never were.”

“Then what’s happening to me?” Gaara asked quietly. 

“You’re healing,” Baki answered. Perhaps he had to say it out loud to himself, too. With a grunt, he lowered himself down onto the wood of the small balcony. “Sit.”

Gaara sat. His spine pressed itself against the wall for support, tired little bones finally given the break they deserved. 

“Look at me for just one second,” Baki asked. 

Green eyes darted to meet his. 

“There is  _ nothing wrong with you,” _ Baki said. “Do you hear me?”

“I’m weak,” Gaara mumbled, while his chest screwed up uncomfortably tight. He wondered, was it possible for his heart to have a sunburn? Was that why it panged when Baki spoke to him? “I’m a liability.”

“You are  _ not, _ ” Baki said fiercely. “You are  _ learning.  _ You are weak because you are learning how to be  _ strong. _ ”

“It’s hard for me to learn.”

“Did you think it would be easy?”

Gaara didn’t respond.

“What is being strong to you?” Baki asked. 

For a moment, Gaara didn’t have an answer. “Being able… to protect others,” he said slowly. “Being able to make bonds with other people because you love them. And they love you back. They’re not scared of you.”

“Did you see what happened when you helped our team through the storm?” Baki said. “What did you do then? Did you protect them?”

Gaara paused. “Yes. But I couldn’t the whole time. We had to stop because I was weak--”

“We had to stop because you weren’t ready to carry the weight of a storm on your very first try,” Baki insisted. “But don’t you think that next time, you would do better?”

“Yes.”

“Do you see what I’m saying here, Gaara?”

Gaara poked at a patch of sunburn on his arm. 

“You are already working on getting where you want to be,” Baki said. “You’ll do it. I absolutely know you will.”

“How do you know?” Gaara asked quietly. 

“Because I’m here to help you,” Baki said simply. “So are Temari and Kankuro… and all the friends you’ve made this week.”

The sunburn on Gaara’s heart seemed to subside. “I ate fish with Kankuro today.”

“I saw,” Baki hummed. “Did you finish it all?”

Gaara nodded, then shook his head. “Most of it. Kankuro finished the rest.”

“He always knows the best places to eat,” Baki chuckled. “I liked seeing you two spend some time together, you know.”

“I like spending time with him,” Gaara began. He spoke slowly, hesitantly. “Do you think he likes spending time with me? Or is he scared of me?”

It was another question Baki didn’t know how to intricately answer. He knew Kankuro loved Gaara more than anything, but he had also watched the way Kankuro would shake when he had to hold Gaara back, or how his expression would turn to stone when he watched his brother transform into something so unnerving. 

“I think your brother wishes you would spend more time with him. Your sister, too.”

“Maybe I’ll do that sometime,” Gaara mumbled, more to himself than anything. 

Baki hummed affirmatively, and then dug in the side of his pack. “I have something for you.”

Gaara glanced over at him curiously. 

From his pack, Baki pulled a small pouch of what looked to be ointment, but it was an unsettling green jelly. “Aloe vera.”

“That is not an aloe vera plant.”

“It’s made from it,” Baki pointed out. He beckoned Gaara to lean closer as he spread some of the aloe on his fingertips, “It’ll help that god awful sunburn you’ve got.”

“Will it sting?”

“No,” Baki laughed, and tentatively swiped some across Gaara’s nose so he could feel his skin grow cooler. “That’s what it feels like.”

“Oh,” Gaara said, and then closed his eyes as a sign for Baki to continue. 

“I actually had something else I wanted to talk to you about,” Baki said, as he spread aloe across the red on Gaara’s face. “You remember Lady Tsunade, yes?”

“The Leaf’s Hokage.”

“And you know she’s the most talented medical ninja alive?”

“She is?”

“She is,” Baki nodded. “I think she may be able to fix your chakra network. At the very least I would like her to try.”

Gaara’s eyes snapped open. 

“Guy-sensei said it would be no problem to find us accommodations in the Leaf. I was even thinking to go back with his team.”

“Back to… Konoha?”

“Are you opposed?”

“Will Naruto be there?”

Baki laughed lightly. “I don’t know.”

“They don’t really like us in Konoha.”

“We’re allies with Konoha,” said Baki, “they’ll like you just fine.”

Gaara grunted. 

“Think about it,” Baki said, pursing his lips as he screwed the lid of the aloe back on. 

With a wooden  _ smack,  _ the sliding door to the small patio swung open. “Gaara-san! Baki-sensei! We would love it if you joined us for dinner!” Lee said. Gaara would have never known that under a half an hour ago Lee had been half dead on the floor. “And you must try it!”

“Is that so?” Baki smiled, pushing himself to stand up. 

The kitchen smelled good, despite what Neji had been saying. “Smells spicy,” Temari hummed, seated next to Tenten. She grinned over at Kankuro. “Sucks for you, huh?”

“Shut up,” Kankuro grumbled. “I can eat spicy food just fine.”

Gaara took a seat on Kankuro’s other side just as Guy began dishing out plates of curry that looked so spicy it was nearly red. The rice underneath was nearly invisible, and Kankuro’s eyes were wide when he looked at his own portion (that was exceptionally covered in curry.) Gaara’s own was on the lighter side. 

Gaara glanced up at Guy, waited for him to turn his back, and then wordlessly switched his plate with Kankuro’s.

“Did you just--” Kankuro did a double take. On his other side, Temari was smiling. 

“I like spicy things,” Gaara said plainly, picking up his chopsticks. He wasn’t even sure how much he would eat. 

“Uh huh,” Kankuro said. The message had been received. He shook his head, smiling as he took his first bite. “Thanks, dude.”

“You’re welcome,” Gaara responded, and chewed a mouthful of spicy rice before adding a resulting, “dude.”

Suddenly Temari and Kankuro were laughing so hard that both of them had to avoid spitting curry on the table.

“What is possibly so funny?” Baki asked skeptically. “Quiet down. We’re about to go over the plan for tomorrow.”

Gaara was bewildered as well, staring owlishly at his siblings before going back to his curry. It certainly didn’t taste like curry- perhaps Neji was right when he described motor oil- but Gaara wouldn’t say anything. 

“Oh, fuck,” Kankuro wiped under his eyes, shaking his head. 

“Stop swearing at the table!” Baki scolded. 

“I’m- I’m sorry,” Kankuro had to bite back another fit of laughter, while Temari pinched his shoulder and held back her own. 

“Was it something I said?” Gaara asked. 

“Ah man, no,” Kankuro laughed. “Nah. You just- you just eat. Don’t worry about it.”

Gaara shrugged. He looked to his other side, where Lee clambered over. “Do you know why they’re laughing?”

“Not in the slightest!” Lee chirped, leaning over the center of the table to scoop more curry onto his plate. His eyes were already watering from the spice. 

“Anyways,” Baki cleared his throat, “here’s what will happen tomorrow.” 

The table fell to a respectful quiet, with the exception of chopsticks scraping against bowls. 

“Provided there’s no storms tomorrow, we should be able to get to the rendezvous point and complete the mission. It’s just west of here, which means it’ll be even hotter. We’ll have to leave early in the morning to beat the heat.”

“It should be relatively quick,” Guy nodded. His own eyes were filling with tears similar to Lee’s. He looked to Baki. “Have you decided whether you’ll be accompanying us back to Konoha?”

“Yes,” Gaara interjected, and everyone looked to him (mostly for interrupting.)

“It’s Gaara’s decision,” Baki said calmly, “so then yes, we will be.”

“We’re going to Konoha?” Kankuro asked through a mouthful of food. “F’rwhat?”

“I’d like Lady Tsunade to do some chakra work with Gaara,” Baki said, not caring to divulge in the rest. He supposed Gaara would like it better that way. 

“So you’ll be staying for a while?” Tenten grinned over at Temari. The two of them had grown awfully close throughout this mission, and were sitting next to each other. “And you’ll be off duty! We’ll have to do something fun!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope everyone is having a wonderful year!!! come chat with me [on tumblr !](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/shadowstrangle)

**Author's Note:**

> leaving this here ahahhfhskjfh  
> I wanted to try my hand at writing action cause it's not usually my thing and yeah! Here it is! I really don't know how many chapters this is going to be or when I'll update it but :) here you all go have a wonderful night thank you for reading  
> if you want to come [say hello to me on tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/shadowstrangle) and talk sand sibs you are more than welcome!


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